


God, the Devil, and the Deep Blue Sea

by NightComesSwiftly



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, M/M, Original Character(s), Other, Screenplay/Script Format, Silence of the Lambs storyline, Slow Burn, season 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:10:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightComesSwiftly/pseuds/NightComesSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EXT. THE CLIFFS – NIGHT</p>
<p>A steep cliff, eroded by the incessant onslaught of THE OCEAN. On the cliff top a glass-paneled house stands motionless, the lights inside warm and inviting, like a boat on the sea. The only sound to be heard is the CRASHING OF THE WAVES.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham have both been lost to the roiling Atlantic; their story is over - or is it?<br/>Meanwhile another killer's story is only beginning, dredging up faces and memories from the past that would be best left forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Picada

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this is sort of a cathartic exercise for me; I never realized how attached I was to this show until it ended (here's hoping it gets picked up by another network!)
> 
> I didn't want to touch Clarice Starling's character, so I'm using Miriam Lass as a stand-in. Many of the lines are borrowed directly from The Silence of the Lambs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, Alana, and Molly all find ways to adjust after Hannibal and Will's apparent murder-suicide. Jack recruits Miriam Lass to aid him in his search for an elusive new serial killer called "Buffalo Bill".

HANNIBAL

“Picada”

TEASER

EXT. THE CLIFFS – NIGHT

 

_A steep cliff, eroded by the incessant onslaught of THE OCEAN. On the cliff top a glass-paneled house stands motionless, the lights inside warm and inviting, like a boat on the sea. The only sound to be heard is the CRASHING OF THE WAVES._

 

CUT TO:

 

INT. THE GLASS HOUSE – NIGHT

 

_THE CAMERA PANS over the bloody interior of the house, treating the dark bloodstains, the knocked-over camera, the shattered window glass, and the piano all with the same amount of PASSIVE ATTENTION._

 

CUT TO:

 

EXT. CRIME SCENE – NIGHT

 

_The light from the house bathes the corpse of FRANCIS DOLARHYDE in a warm glow. THE CAMERA PANS OVER HIM INDIFFERENTLY, pausing only to examine the slow pooling of his blood, which spreads out like wings from beneath him. THE CAMERA CONTINUES OVER THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF, taking in the scattered woodpile, the twin bloodstains beside it, and the breathtaking drop into the water below._

SMASH CUT TO:

 

EXT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – NIGHT

 

_HANNIBAL LECTER’s head breaks the surface of the water. We are suddenly assaulted with NOISE as the sound of the water crashing against THE BLUFF becomes incredibly loud, mixing unperceptively with AMBIENT BACKGROUND MUSIC: turbulent drums and violent cymbals, which punctuate each wave as it crashes into the cliff._

 

_Hannibal gasps for air and begins to fight the current with one arm, as the other is still wrapped tightly around the limp body of WILL GRAHAM. The camera SLIPS BELOW THE SURFACE to capture the two men’s legs – Hannibal’s kick expertly in the water as Will’s trail slackly beneath him._

_BACK ABOVE THE WATER, Hannibal latches onto a JUTTING ROCK, which slices into his fingers, bloodying them, before glancing down at his unconscious companion, expression somewhere between wonder and contempt. His arm slackens; letting Will slip another few inches into the water. Hannibal breathes heavily as he contemplates his options – he can allow the other man to drown, thus bettering his own chances at survival, or he can try to save them both._

_The decision is made for him as A POWERFUL WAVE SURGES OVER THE ROCK, causing Hannibal to lose his grip, and the two men are thrown against the bluff before slipping below the surface into SILENCE._

_THE SCREEN DARKENS on their free-fall through the water towards the unseen sea floor. Suddenly the frame is AWASH WITH LIGHT: a torch perhaps, or a search beacon. It filters down through the water, illuminating the two men from above. Hannibal looks slowly upwards and into the light._

END TEASER – OPENING CREDITS ROLL

* * *

 

ACT ONE

INT. BEDELIA DU MAURIER’S HOUSE – BEDROOM – DAY

 

_A TELEVISION mounted on a dresser shows an overhead view of a road covered in POLICE CARS and YELLOW TAPE._

 

REPORTER (VOICEOVER)

     The search continues for Hannibal Lecter and FBI agent Will Graham after their disappearance yesterday morning. It has been confirmed that Will Graham acted        as Lecter’s accomplice in the escape, but new reports have surfaced claiming that Francis Dolarhyde, the serial killer known as The Tooth Fairy, also played a            role.

    

_A woman passes in front of the television, HER FACE OUT OF FRAME UNTIL THE NEXT CUT, which shows her leaning over an OPEN SUITCASE laid out on the bed opposite the television. It is BEDELIA DU MAURIER. She holds A SILKEN DRESS against the light before folding it and tucking it into the suitcase._

 

REPORTER (CONT.)

     Dolarhyde was believed dead after his body was supposedly recovered from the wreckage of his home three days ago, but an eyewitness account as well as an         exclusive article from Tattle Crime journalist Freddie Lounds seem to confirm that –

 

_THE DOORBELL rings._

_Bedelia freezes, springing into an upright position. She hurries to turn off the television._

CUT TO:

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – STAIRS – DAY

 

_Bedelia emerges at the top of the stairs, A .22 CALIBER HANDGUN held cautiously out in front of her. The doorbell rings again, causing Bedelia to flinch. She descends the stairs, slipping into –_

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – KITCHEN – DAY

 

_Bedelia crosses to THE WINDOW and peers through it._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

(From outside)

     Bedelia! It’s Jack Crawford.

 

_Bedelia sighs, her eyes drooping in relief._

 

CUT TO:

 

EXT. BEDELIA’S DOORSTEP – DAY

 

ON JACK – **OVER THE SHOULDER P.O.V**

****

_The door opens five inches, revealing a good half of Bedelia’s face._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Agent Crawford. It’s been an age.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     It certainly seems that way. May I come in?

 

_Bedelia looks at him for a few seconds before opening the door, and Jack steps inside._

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – FOYER – DAY

 

_Jack notices THE VARIOUS BOXES stacked on either side of the door and the TARPS DRAPED OVER THE OFFICE FURNITUE. Bedelia smiles flatly._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     You’ve caught me at just the right time.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Planning a little vacation, are we?

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     You could call it that.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     May I ask where?

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     I’d prefer not to say.

 

_Jack nods and looks around for a bit._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Hannibal Lecter is dead.

 

_Bedelia looks at him, completely unfazed._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

      … As is Will Graham.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     You said the same thing about Francis Dolarhyde.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     He’s dead too.

 

_He catches Bedelia’s critical expression._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     We’re sure this time. Didn’t pull any punches. The body’s not damaged beyond recognition, and DNA evidence confirmed it.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     And our intrepid pair?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

(Hesitant)

     Went over a cliff into the Atlantic. Together. Haven’t recovered the bodies yet, but we will eventually.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     How long of a drop?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Two hundred feet, give or take.

 

_Bedelia scoffs._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Into water? People have survived worse.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     They were both pretty badly injured. We found a substantial amount of blood at the crime scene, _and_ most of it was caught on tape.

 

_Bedelia raises an eyebrow._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     Details don’t matter. They’re dead. We’re sure of it.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     It isn’t over unless there’s a body. Sometimes not even then, as Francis Dolarhyde has so graciously demonstrated.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     I’m not wrong this time.

 

_Bedelia smiles indulgently._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Would you like a glass of wine? There’s a 1984 Vermouth stashed away in the pantry for a rainy day.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Seems as good a time as any to crack it open.

 

INT. BEDELIA’S KITCHEN – DAY

_Bedelia swirls the wine in the bottom of HER GLASS, hand resting on the counter. Jack slowly sips from HIS OWN GLASS._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Let’s pretend, just for a moment, that we’re dealing with two mortal men. Let’s say they’re both dead. How does that make you feel?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     How does it make me feel? And here I was thinking you’d retired.

 

_Bedelia glances down at her glass, unsmiling._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Let’s see, how does it make me feel… I feel whole. Satisfied.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     And now you’re going to close the book on Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter and begin anew?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     I suppose so.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     I wish I could stick around to see how that little experiment plays out.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     There’s no reason to run, Bedelia.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     How I would love to be able to live in your fantasy world. But this is just the beginning. Are you familiar with Dante, Agent Crawford?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Not overly familiar, no.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     As far as classical readings go, it’s not terribly dull. Near the end, before Dante and Virgil can enter the ninth circle of Hell, they descend into the Well of Giants        from the top of a cliff.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     What’s in the ninth circle of Hell?

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Satan himself, and a sheet of ice stretching for miles.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     The Atlantic doesn’t freeze over, not even in the winter.

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Whatever helps you sleep at night, Agent Crawford, although I believe that list is beginning to dwindle.

 

_She sets her wine glass down on the counter, untouched._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER (CONT.)

     It’s time to disappear. Goodbye, Agent Crawford.

 

_She sweeps out of the room, leaving Jack to stare at her still brimming glass._

 

EXT. ARGENTINA – A BEACH – DAY

 

_WAVES CRASH ON THE SHORE, clear and bright, unlike the ferocious tides that erode the bluff back home in the north. The camera slowly pans upward to reveal a large seaside mansion, the VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE._

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – MASTER BEDROOM – DAY

 

_ALANA BLOOM awakens on silken sheets beside MARGOT VERGER, who remains asleep on the other side of the bed. Alana looks at her contemplatively before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and SHRUGGING ON A ROBE._

ON ALANA – **OVER THE SHOULDER P.O.V**

****

_Alana walks down the hallway and SLOWLY OPENS A DOOR. Inside, MORGAN VERGER-BLOOM sleeps peacefully in his bed, clutching an expensive teddy bear around t_ he neck. Alana smiles and lingers at the doorway for a moment before turning away.

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – KITCHEN – DAY

 

_Alana leans against the frame of A SLIDING GLASS DOOR, staring out at the ocean as WHITE CURTAINS billow around her in the breeze. Margot emerges to stands at her elbow, and they stare at the sea for a moment before turning and exchanging a muted, professional kiss – both are still wary after their recent exodus._

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – ALANA’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_Alana sits at her desk, still in her robe, A CUP OF COFFEE held in one white hand. Behind her, DOZENS OF BOXES still need to be unpacked. She turns on the computer to check her email and notices one from Jack Crawford at the top of her inbox with the note ‘VIDEO FILE ATTACHED’. She clicks it hesitantly and takes a deep breath as the video fills the screen._

 

FRANCIS DOLARHYDE (VOICEOVER)

     Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself.

 

_Alana sets down her coffee._

 

EXT. THE CLIFFS – DAY

 

_WAVES CRASH AGAINST THE BLUFF, looking much less ferocious in the daylight. A TRAWLER passes in front of the cliff, and THE CAMERA DIPS BELOW THE SURFACE, where a trawl net drags empty._

 

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE – DAY

 

_Jack Crawford stands on the edge of the cliff, looking critically down at the sea, where the trawler continues its search. He glances down at A BLOODSTAIN NEAR HIS FEET, which is labeled with A YELLOW EVIDENCE MARKER, and then turns to look out at A SEA OF OTHERS. The most prominent is the large, wing-like stain in the center of the stone patio, where Francis Dolarhyde’s body no longer lays. JIMMY PRICE steps gingerly through the broken window and looks down at his CLIPBOARD. Jack walks over to the window, carefully sidestepping shards of broken glass, and peers inside the house. BRIAN ZELLER kneels beside the piano, MEASURING A BLOOD SPATTER._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     What have you got?

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Well, just judging from the height of the spray, I’d guess that Graham was stabbed in the face or neck.

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Face. If he’d been stabbed in the neck, he would’ve bled out on the carpet.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Whatever.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     What about Lecter?

 

_Zeller shifts his attention to A LARGER BLOODSTAIN on the floor._

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Volume of blood says it was a pretty serious wound – we found the bullet lodged in the wall back there – but I don’t think it damaged any internal organs.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Could he have survived?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Well, theoretically, the human body can survive almost anything. I believe it was 1912 when Douglas Mawson survived for 32 days in the Antarctic wasteland            with no food or water, plus the added bonus of conjunctivitis and frostbite. I mean, the soles of his feet fell off, but comparatively -

 

_Jack silences him with a look and turns back to Zeller, who considers the question._

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Maybe. If he didn’t drown or freeze to death and somehow managed to get medical attention within the next couple of hours.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     And Will?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     With a wound like that, it’s extremely unlikely.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Yeah, he wasn’t in the best condition. On the tape-

 

_JACK’S PHONE RINGS._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Excuse me.

 

_He ANSWERS THE PHONE and walks back towards the cliff._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Hello, Doctor Bloom.

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – ALANA’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_Alana stands by the window._

 

ALANA BLOOM

     I watched the tape, Jack.

 

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE – DAY

 

_Jack stops at the edge of the cliff._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     And?

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – ALANA’S OFFICE – DAY

 

ALANA BLOOM

     It doesn’t mean anything. This is Hannibal we’re talking about. He’s survived worse. We all have.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     You’re not the first person to tell me that.

 

ALANA BLOOM

     I assume you haven’t found the bodies.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We’re still looking, but they could have been swept out to sea.

 

ALANA BLOOM

     Or they could have washed up on a beach, or climbed onto a boat, or caught a plane.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Alana…

 

ALANA BLOOM

     You’re not going to convince me of anything, Jack. Don’t expect any more calls; we’re destroying every trace of ourselves. Maybe you should do the same.

 

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE – DAY

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Hannibal didn’t promise to kill me. Besides –

 

_He peers down into the water._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     He’s in no position to keep his promises now.

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – ALANA’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_Alana doesn’t respond._

 

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE – DAY

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     How’s Argentina?

 

ALANA BLOOM

     Goodbye, Jack.

 

_Alana hangs up and Jack slowly puts the phone back in his pocket, returning his attention to the sea below._

 

INT. THE VERGER-BLOOM ESTATE – ALANA’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_Alana sighs and goes to sit at her desk. She notices that she hasn’t closed Jack’s email and goes to do so when she hesitates. The words VIDEO-FILE ATTACHED seem to burn a place on the screen. Finally, she gives in and clicks the link for the second time._

 

INT. THE GLASS HOUSE – NIGHT

 

** FRANCIS DOLARHYDE’S CAMERA P.O.V. **

****

_THE CAMERA FOCUSES on Hannibal Lecter, who lies, bleeding from his stomach, against the piano. He glances up at someone off-camera._

 

FRANCIS DOLARHYDE (VOICEOVER)

     Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself.

 

_THERE IS MOVEMENT OFF CAMERA, reflected in the black sheen of the piano. A SICKENING CRUNCH and THE SOUND OF A MAN GRUNTING accompany the motion, and Hannibal’s mouth twitches into a snarl. Off-camera, THERE IS MORE SOUND – gasping, a thud, and a muffled shout. Hannibal stares directly at the camera, his expression resigned, and he struggles to his feet, KNOCKING THE CAMERA OVER IN THE PROCESS._

 

_From its new vantage point, THE CAMERA IS ABLE TO PEER THROUGH THE WINDOW, out into the darkness, where Dolarhyde crouches over a fallen Will Graham. Hannibal sheds his coat before throwing himself at the killer. THE CAMERA CONTINUES TO RECORD THEIR FIGHT, a fight we’ve seen before, made more unsettling and primal in THE ABSENCE OF MUSIC. Finally, Dolarhyde drops to the ground, dead, leaving Hannibal to struggle to his feet like a wounded animal._

 

WILL GRAHAM

     It really does look black in the moonlight.

 

_His voice is muffled, but it still pierces through the far-off noise of the ocean. Hannibal helps him to his feet, and THEY BECOME ONE SHADOW lurking at the edge of the FRAME._

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     See, this is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.

 

_A PAUSE in which nothing is heard but the SOUND OF BREATHING._

 

WILL GRAHAM

     It’s beautiful.

 

_THEIR EMBRACE is barely perceptible to the camera, but it is no less shocking when the two dark figures that hover nearly out of sight DISAPPEAR OVER THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF. After a few seconds of silence, there is a MUTED SPLASH far below, and then all we are left with are THE SOUNDS OF THE NIGHT._

 

CUT TO BLACK.

 

END OF ACT ONE

* * *

 

ACT TWO

INT. THE FOSTER-GRAHAM RESIDENCE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

 

_MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM sits on the couch, staring blankly at the opposite wall. HER ARM IS IN A SLING, a grim reminder of her encounter with The Dragon. When the doorbell rings, she has to force herself to stand and walk to the door, followed closely by WINSTON and a few other STRAYS._

EXT. MOLLY’S DOORSTEP – DAY

 

ON JACK – **OVER THE SHOULDER P.O.V**

****

_Molly opens the door, and she and Jack lock eyes for a moment. Her eyes tell him that she already knows._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     I already got a phone call.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Where’s Walter?

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     Still at his grandparents’. I haven’t told him yet.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     I see. Can I come in?

 

INT. THE FOSTER-GRAHAM RESIDENCE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

 

_Molly sits, still shell-shocked, on the couch. Jack stands uncomfortably by the cold fireplace._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     The reporters said he helped him escape.

 

_Jack takes a deep breath, looking guilty._

JACK CRAWFORD

     That was Will’s idea. He thought it added authenticity.

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     It looked pretty damn authentic to me.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We couldn’t have anticipated that –

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     Yes, you could’ve.

 

_Jack doesn’t respond, conceding by default. Molly shakes her head, more incredulous than truly upset._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     How’d you find them?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     They stole a police car that was equipped with a GPS tracking device. They wanted to be found.

 

_Molly sits up, confused._

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     Why didn’t you just follow them to the house? Did you have SWAT teams ready for when the Tooth Fairy showed up?

 

_Jack responds carefully:_

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We had a rare opportunity. I didn’t want to compromise the –

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     Oh my God.

 

_She laughs in disbelief._

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM (CONT.)

     You let him die. You knew exactly where he was. You knew The Tooth Fairy was going to come after them, and you just let it happen.

 

_Jack doesn’t respond._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM (CONT.)

     You know, I blamed myself for what happened to Wally and me. Will didn’t want to go, but I told him to anyway. That’s on me. But I wasn’t the one who came          looking for him after three years trying to pull him back in.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Molly –

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM

     My husband is dead because you didn’t know when to stop. Wally’s father had cancer; I had no problem with that. You can’t argue with cancer. Can’t stay mad        with cancer. I can stay mad with you.

 

_Jack fidgets with his gloves, which he holds in one hand._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM (CONT.)

     Get out. Don’t come back here.

 

_Jack nods politely to her and leaves the room. THE CAMERA STAYS FOCUSED ON MOLLY’S IMPASSIVE FACE AS THE FRONT DOOR OPENS AND CLOSE OFF-CAMERA. A BEAT OF SILENCE, then the mask crumbles, and she begins to sob. Winston pokes his nose into her lap, and she holds him close against her thigh as she weeps._

 

MOLLY FOSTER-GRAHAM (CONT.)

     Good boy, do you want to go outside?

 

_Wiping her face off with the back of her good hand, Molly rises and leads Winston and the other dogs out of the room._

EXT. BACKYARD – DAY

 

_The back door creaks open, and the dogs race out onto the porch before DESCENDING THE STAIRS PAST THE WOODPILE. Molly looks out into the snow, the tears already beginning to dry on her cheeks._

 

_THE DOGS race through the yard into the woods, snow crunching underfoot. As they disappear into the trees, THE CAMERA PANS UPWARDS to a stark white sky. When IT LOWERS AGAIN, the snow is gone, and the leaves on the trees are just beginning to turn. Summer has passed in the blink of an eye, and we are no longer at home._

 

EXT. WEST VIRGINIAN WILDERNESS – A LAKE – DAY

 

_A CHYRON tells us we are --_

** BURNSVILLE, WEST VIRGINIA **

****

_A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN in a bathing suit reclines on the shore, looking intently at HER PHONE through large sunglasses._

 

ANDREA

     Richard?

 

_A MIDDLE-AGED MAN’s head breaks through the surface of the water._

 

RICHARD

     Yes, dear?

 

_The woman removes her sunglasses._

 

ANREA

     Are we meeting Frank and Louise for dinner on the ninth or the tenth?

 

_The man walks up to the woman and snatches A TOWEL off of the sand, which he proceeds to use to dry himself off._

RICHARD

     It’s the tenth, innit?

 

ANDREA

     Sally wants to bring the kids up to visit on the tenth, but I don’t want to leave them on their own their first night in town.

 

RICHARD

     They’ll find something to do. Sally and Robert can go get dinner; I’ll hire a babysitter for the kids.

 

ANDREA

     Still, don’t you think we should cancel?

 

RICHARD

     We haven’t seen Frank and Louise in ages. Sally will understand.

 

_Andrea frowns and looks back at her phone. Then she looks at her husband, who is toweling off his hair._

 

ANDREA

     Richard?

 

RICHARD

     Yeah?

 

ANDREA

     Where’s your wedding ring?

 

_Richard freezes. He tosses the towel to the ground and examines his finger, which is indeed ring-less._

 

ANDREA

     Did you take it off before you went in?

 

RICHARD

     Shit, no. I didn’t.

 

_Andrea motions at the lake._

 

ANDREA

     Well, go on, water’s clear.

 

RICHARD

     Andrea, it’s a gold band. I got it for a hundred dollars.

 

ANDREA

     It has _sentimental_ value.

 

_Richard sighs and trudges back to the water. He plunges in, THE CAMERA LEAPING IN WITH HIM, and we find ourselves in an eerie, blue-green, underwater world. Richard’s eyes scan OCCASIONAL BEER BOTTLE. After a minute, he comes up for air._

 

ANDREA

     See anything?

 

RICHARD

     No.

 

ANDREA

     Try over by the other shore.

 

RICHARD

     I didn’t swim that far out.

 

ANDREA

     Try anyway.

 

_Richard sighs but plunges obediently onward. He takes a deep breath and dives; it’s deeper here, and the water is murky. It takes his a moment for his eyes to adjust, but HE SUDDENLY SEES SOMETHING GLEAM IN THE DARKNESS. Encouraged, he swims closer, only to find that the gleaming object is just an EARRING._

 

_It is STILL ATTACHED TO AN EAR. The ear is attached to the BODY OF A YOUNG MAN, which is weighted down with CEMENT BRICKS. The body has been flayed from neck to groin. Richard screams, and bubbles stream from his mouth, but THE NOISE IS LOST UNDERWATER._

 

_When his head breaks the surface, Andrea looks up hopefully._

 

ANDREA

     Did you find it?

 

INT. F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS – EXAMINATION ROOM – DAY

 

_A WHITE-GLOVED HAND reaches into FRAME to unzip A BLACK BODY BAG, revealing A YOUNG MAN’S GHOSTLY, WATERLOGGED FACE. A GOLDEN EARRING glitters in one ear._

 

_THE CAMERA ZOOMS OUT to reveal Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller hovering over the examination table. Zeller gags at the smell of the weeks-old body, and Price wrinkles his nose as he finishes unzipping the bag._

 

JIMMY PRICE

     It’s an acquired odor.

 

_Zeller peers at the victim’s skinned torso._

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     What do you think, gunshot wound like the last two?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     No, there’s ligature marks around the throat. Hard to see with all the discoloration.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     So he just can’t make up his mind?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     I don’t think so…

 

_He leans over the body, clutching a pair of TWEEZERS. He is in the process of removing something from the ear canal when Jack Crawford WALKS THROUGH THE DOOR_

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     What have you got?

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     This one was strangled.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Like Jefferson Eppes? What, did the killer switch up his MO just to change it back?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Nope!

 

_He holds up his tweezers triumphantly, AN EMPTY INSECT PUPAE clutched between them._

 

JIMMY PRICE (CONT.)

     Meet the caddisfly. Well, the caddisfly cocoon; no one’s home at the moment.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     We called those periwinkles when I was a kid.

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Cooling water temperatures in the fall trigger the caddisfly’s emergence, but it remains in its cocoon for weeks to months.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We found the first victim two months ago.

 

_Price and Zeller exchange a glance._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     You’re saying Jefferson Eppes wasn’t the first victim?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     We’ll need to to do further testing, but I’m pretty sure you’re looking at him.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     He didn’t change his MO at all! He hanged the first two victims and then switched to a gun; easier, I guess.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Easier for us to trace. Good work, you two.

 

_Zeller gives a mock salute._

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Thanks, boss.

 

_Jack leaves, unsmiling. Price hunches over to take scrapings from beneath the victim’s fingernails._

JIMMY PRICE

     That’s a very northwestern linguistic quirk you’ve got there.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Huh?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     You grew up in Washington, didn’t you? You’re the only people in the country who even have a word for the caddisfly cocoon. What do you call the thing you            drink water from in the park?

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     A drinking fountain.

 

_Price chuckles._

 

JIMMY PRICE

     _Water_ fountain.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     _Drinking_ fountain.

 

_SOMETHING DISLODGES FROM BENEATH A FINGERNAIL._

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Hello…

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     What is it?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     Looks like a piece of limestone.

 

_He holds it up AGAINST THE LIGHT._

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. THE PIT – NIGHT

 

_A young, slightly overweight man, THOMAS VANDENBERG, claws at the side of the pit, exhausted and crying._

 

THOMAS VANDENBERG

     Mister, please, I won’t tell anyone, just let me out.

 

_There are SOUNDS OF SCRAPING from above, and A FLASHLIGHT shines down into the pit, blinding Thomas momentarily._

 

THOMAS VANDENBERG (CONT.)

     Please, I don’t know what you look like.

 

_A BUCKET begins to descend from the top of the pit on A ROPE._

 

THOMAS VANDENBERG (CONT.)

     Oh, God, no!

 

_He begins to cry harder, hysterical. THE FLASHLIGHT SWEEPS OVER THE SIDE OF THE PIT, illuminating a BLOODY FINGERNAIL trapped between the bricks._

 

_Thomas Vandenberg begins to scream._

 

END ACT TWO

* * *

 

ACT THREE

INT. F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS – JACK’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_Jack Crawford sits at his desk, sifting through a MOUNTAIN OF PAPERWORK. There is a knock at the door, and he glances up, his face breaking into a wide grin._

 

_Standing self-consciously in the doorway is MIRIAM LASS, looking healthy and strong._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     You wanted to see me?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Yes, and I’m glad you took me up on the offer. Please, sit.

 

_Miriam smiles and goes to sit across from Jack._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     You’re looking well; I heard you passed your psych eval.

 

_Miriam laughs bitterly._

MIRIAM LASS

     I’ll never work in the field again.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Well, I was wondering if you were still interested in working for me.

 

_Miriam looks at him, dumbfounded, for a few seconds._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     I wouldn’t be sending you out on interviews; I’ve learned my lesson about that. No, there’s a job I need done, and I thought of you. Not a job really, more of an        errand.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Really?

JACK CRAWFORD

     You have a degree in psychology. What tests have you given?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Rorschach, MMPI, I’ve given children Bender-Gestalt. Why?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We’ve developed a questionnaire for the VI-CAP.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program?

 

_Jack nods._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     It supposedly applies to all known serial killers in modern times. We’re putting together a database.

 

_He hands Miriam A SHEAF OF PAPERS._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     The section at the top’s for the killer to answer if he wants to; the bottom part’s a series of questions for the examiner to ask the killer. It’s a lot of paperwork.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I can handle paperwork.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We’ve tried to examine all thirty-one known serial murderers in custody. Twenty-seven cooperated. Of the remaining four, two are being held at the Baltimore        State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I’d expect there to be more.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Elton Stammets died of liver cancer two years ago. The two that are left – Eva Knowles and Matthew Brown – have proven very hard to persuade.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I’ll do what I can, but can I ask, why me?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     You’re experienced, I know you’re competent, and even if they both refuse, I need to be able to say I sent in a qualified examiner.

 

_Miriam glances up at him from the papers in her lap, suspecting he isn’t being entirely honest. Jack sighs and leans forward._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     Mainly it’s because you’re available. We’re stretched pretty thin; there’s no one left in the department to do it.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I get it, you’re jammed -- Buffalo Bill, the press.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     God, I hate that name. Do you know why they call him that?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     It started as a joke in Kansas City Homicide, right?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Yes. They call him Buffalo Bill because he ‘skins his humps’, in the words of Miss Freddie Lounds. Needless to say, the detective who provided her with that              particular quote is no longer with the bureau.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Naturally.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     I’ve set up an appointment for Sunday, so you can take that home and have a look at it.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     You knew I’d accept?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     If you hadn’t, I’d have to have settled for someone less qualified. As it is, I am very glad I didn’t have to.

 

_Miriam smiles and slips the papers into her bag._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Oh, Agent Crawford? Forgive me for not being up to date on these things, but who took over the hospital after Doctor Bloom retired?

 

_Jack grimaces._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Ah. That’s where you may run into some trouble.

 

CUT TO:

INT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – FREDERICK CHILTON’S OFFICE – DAY

 

_CLOSE-UP on A PAIR OF ARTIFICIALLY RECONSTRUCTED LIPS._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     Long time, no see, Miss Lass. It is still _Miss_ Lass?

 

_Miriam smiles politely, clearly uncomfortable in the man’s presence._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Yes, Doctor Chilton.

 

_Chilton gives her a reptilian grin. He has made an admirable effort at disguising the wreckage fire has made of his face, but the make-up does a poor job at covering the SCARS BETWEEN SKIN GRAFTS, not all of which are quite the same shade. His mouth is like a gash, and Chilton inadvertently draws more attention to it by biting his pen as he peruses Miriam’s credentials._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     I hope you understand that there are no hard feelings, Miss Lass.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     That’s a relief.

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     With everything that’s happened, I can’t begrudge you one little bullet. You didn’t escape Hannibal Lecter’s clutches entirely unscathed, either.

 

_He glances pointedly at HER PROSTHETIC ARM before handing her back her credentials, which she returns to her purse._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     We’re both survivors, Miss Lass. It can be a difficult cross to bear.

 

_He gets to his feet, leaning heavily on A CANE._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I take it.

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     That’s one way of putting it.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I understood you’d brief me.

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     It’s all there in her file.

 

_He leaves the office, beckoning her to follow._

 

INT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – CORRIDOR – DAY

 

FREDERICK CHILTON (CONT.)

Eva Knowles. Kidnapped six boys and convinced them to murder their families. One boy ended up dead when he couldn’t finish the job. She’s been a model patient up until now.

 

_He trips and STUMBLES AGAINST A WALL, grimacing. Miriam respectfully looks down at her feet, Frederick’s LOOK OF CONTEMPT GOING UNNOTICED. He rights himself, and they continue on their way as if nothing happened._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON (CONT.)

     I’m reminded occasionally of the story of Tithonus. The goddess of dawn fell in love with him and begged Zeus to grant him eternal life –

 

MIRIAM LASS

     -  But she forgot to ask for eternal youth.

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     I wonder if he still felt pain when his strength began to fail and the arthritis set in.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I couldn’t say.

 

_By this point, they have reached the top of the stairs leading down into a wide hall lined with HOLDING CAGES. ONLY ONE OF THEM IS OCCUPIED. Frederick stops to lean on his cane._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     I would not recommend immortality, if that’s what you are wondering, but I personally have been quite satisfied with it.

 

_He indicates the stairs with a tilt of his head. Miriam takes a deep breath, readying herself, and begins her descent down the stairs._

 

INT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – THE HALL OF CAGES – DAY

 

_Miriam makes her way to the cage where EVA KNOWLES is held, HER HEELS OPPRESSIVELY LOUD ON THE FLOOR. She gives THE ORDERLY standing off to the side a curt nod and forces a smile for Eva._

MIRIAM LASS

     Good morning, Miss Knowles.

 

_Eva looks at her, intrigued, but doesn’t reply._

 

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     My name is Miriam Lass. May I speak with you?

 

_Eva shrugs._

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     I’ve got a hard problem in psychological profiling. I want to ask for –

 

EVA KNOWLES

     You’re one of Jack Crawford’s, aren’t you?

 

_Miriam falters._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Yes.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     Then this will be about that questionnaire. I’ve already refused to participate. I don’t like tests.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     He wanted to see if I couldn’t change your mind.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     What were you going to offer me?

 

_Miriam blinks. She hasn’t expected to be the one being interrogated._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     If there’s anything you need, I can talk to Doctor Chilton.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     No, no, no. That isn’t how things work around here. I’ve still got all my privileges. I haven’t been stupid enough to give Doctor Chilton a reason to take them            away. What have you got left to trade?

 

_Miriam doesn’t have a response._

 

EVA KNOWLES (CONT.)

     How about a quid pro quo? I tell you the answers to those questions, and you tell me something about you.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     That’s an odd request.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     Really? It’s practically commerce around here. When in Rome…

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Depends on what you want to know.

 

_Eva considers this._

EVA KNOWLES

     How many sections are there on the questionnaire?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Just two. There’s an oral and a written.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     I’ll do the written.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Excellent.

 

_She begins to pull the papers out of her bag._

 

EVA KNOWLES

     … If you tell me something about your family.

 

_Miriam sits up slowly._

MIRIAM LASS

     I understand that that’s a point of interest for you. What do you want to know?

 

EVA KNOWLES

     Something interesting… How about… Your worst memory of your parents.

 

_Miriam swallows._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Probably the death of my father. He was a town marshal.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     How did it happen?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     One night he surprised two burglars coming out the back of a drugstore. They surprised him right back with a gunshot wound to the head.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     They killed him outright?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     No. He lasted a month in the hospital before he died.

 

EVA KNOWLES

     Did you go to visit him?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I think that’s enough for now, Miss Knowles. Will you take the test or not?

 

EVA KNOWLES

     Fair enough.

 

_She REACHES THROUGH THE BARS, and Miriam does her best not to flinch, instead calmly standing and removing the questionnaire from her purse._

 

FREDERICK CHILTON

     No staples or paperclips!

 

_HIS VOICE ECHOES IN THE OPEN HALL. He has been eavesdropping on their conversation._

MIRIAM LASS

     It’s just paper, Doctor Chilton.

 

_She hands the questionnaire to Eva, who doesn’t move._

 

EVA KNOWLES

     I’ll need a pen.

 

_Miriam takes a frustrated breath._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Can she have a pen?

 

ORDERLY

     Yes. I’ll have someone fetch one.

 

_The orderly leaves, and Eva sits back in her cage, licking her thumb so that she can more easily flip through the pages._

 

EVA KNOWLES

     I’ll do the oral if you tell me what happened to your arm.

 

_Miriam swallows._

EXT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – PARKING LOT – DAY

 

_Miriam walks briskly to her car. Her phone rings, and she digs it out of her bag, which contains the completed questionnaire._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (VOICEOVER)

     How’d it go?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     One down, one to go.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Good. I want you in Kentucky.

 

_Miriam unlocks her car and opens the driver’s side door._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Why’s that?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We’ve just pulled a body out of the Ohio River.

 

_Miriam stops dead in her tracks, the color drained from her face. She cuts a lonely figure in the empty parking lot._

 

END ACT THREE

* * *

 

ACT FOUR

 

INT. SAHLMAN FUNERAL HOME – DAY

 

_A CHYRON tells us we are --_

 

** ST. PAUL, KENTUCKY **

****

_Jack Crawford and Miriam Lass walk quickly, side by side, through the front hall of the funeral home._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Name’s Thomas Vandenberg. A couple of fisherman pulled him out of the water this morning.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     The killer didn’t bother to weigh him down?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     He only did that for Anthony Babineaux.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     He was the first victim, wasn’t he? But he was the fourth one found.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     He won’t stop, not unless he’s got what he wants from these victims. I’ll be damned if I know what that is.

 

_The two of them reach the stairs and begin to climb._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Agent Crawford, I hate to ask, but what do you need me for? The VI-CAP business I understand, but this is a federal investigation.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     You want the truth? I’m settling. Ordinarily, I’d take this sort of thing to Will Graham and have him draw up a psychological profile, but he’s dead. Alana Bloom        refuses to leave South America. Hell, at this point I’d be grateful for advice from Hannibal Lecter, but he’s gone too.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     All of your resident serial killers are dead.

 

_The two of them reach the top of the stairs and pass two sets of locked doors into –_

 

INT. SAHLMAN FUNERAL HOME – EXAMINATION ROOM – DAY

 

_THE CORONER looks up from the table, upon which lies AN UNOPENED BLACK BODY BAG. Without the friendly presence of Price and Zeller, the whole scene feels uncomfortable and sterile._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Thank you for waiting, Doctor.

 

_The coroner nods and PROCEEDS TO UNZIP THE BAG. Miriam turns away, out of respect or fright, only she knows. She continues to face the wall as Jack and the coroner move about in the background._

 

CORONER

     Here, Miss. For the smell.

 

_Miriam turns around to see the kind-looking man offering her A SMALL POT OF VICKS VAPORUB. The coroner has already smeared some beneath his nose._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Thank you.

 

_She holds it awkwardly with her prosthetic hand and applies a modest helping around her nostrils before handing the pot back and skirting around the body, taking care not to look directly at it. She pulls A PAIR OF LATEX GLOVES out of a box and begins the strenuous process of donning them._

JACK CRAWFORD

     What do you see, doctor?

 

CORONER

     Don’t look at me; I’m just the coroner. I kick the corpse and make sure it doesn’t kick back.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Well, he doesn’t look like he’s in any shape to be doing any kicking. Miriam, tell me what you see.

 

_Miriam takes a deep breath and turns to look at the body of Thomas Vandenberg. He is a heavyset man in his early to mid-twenties with a fine beard and a GUNSHOT WOUND on his sternum._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Um, he’s got two weeks or so hair growth on his face, but there are still a few cuts from the last time he shaved.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     We think he’s keeping them somewhere, maybe like a pit; Price and Zeller found a piece of limestone under Babineaux’s fingernail. What about the wound?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Contact entrance wound above the sternum. He put the muzzle right up against his chest.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     He hanged the first two, then switched to a gun.

    

MIRIAM LASS

     What did he, um, “skin” this time?

 

_Jack and the coroner exchange a glance._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Let’s flip him over.

 

_Miriam stands back as the two men UNCEREMONIOUSLY TURN THE CORPSE ONTO ITS STOMACH, revealing TWO TRIANGULAR PATCHES OF MISSING SKIN high on the shoulder blades._

 

JACK CRAWFORD (CONT.)

     He cut Carson Brown’s back when he slit off his clothes. It wasn’t more than a scratch, but it matched up with the shirt we’ve found. I’ve never seen anything            like this before.

 

CORONER

     We can fingerprint him easier like this.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I’m afraid I can’t be much help with that.

 

_She raises her prosthetic hand meekly._

JACK CRAWFORD

     That’s fine. Why don’t you go get some water; it’s almost too hot to breathe in here.

 

CORONER

     They keep saying they’ll fix the AC, but the owner’s a cheapskate.

 

_Miriam leaves the room and makes sure the door is closed before SAGGING AGAINST A WALL, breathing hard. A FUNERAL MARCH plays somewhere in the building, morbidly calm. Miriam wipes the VapoRub off her lip and heads down the stairs into –_

 

INT. SAHLMAN FUNERAL HOME – FRONT HALL – DAY

 

_A PITCHER OF WATER sits on A SMALL FOLDING TABLE nearby next to AN OPEN GUESTBOOK and some PAPER CUPS. Miriam pours herself a generous cup and peruses the guestbook as she drinks. THE FUNERAL MARCH IS LOUDER HERE, and suddenly a woman dressed in black bursts through a nearby door, blowing her nose violently on a handkerchief. Miriam watches as the woman disappears and then peeks through the door._

 

_Inside, A PRIEST drones in front of a small assembly. Beside the pulpit, an old man is nestled into a CHERRYWOOD COFFIN. Miriam watches the funeral, entranced, and THE FUNERAL MARCH GROWS LOUDER AND LOUDER, UNTIL IT IS NEARLY DEAFENING._

 

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. SAHLMAN FUNERAL HOME – FRONT HALL – DAY

 

_Miriam sits at the bench, looking straight ahead. The music is noticeably absent._

 

_A voice shocks her into alertness._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Miriam. We’re just finishing up.

 

CUT TO:

INT. SAHLMAN FUNERAL HOME – EXAMINATION ROOM – DAY

 

_Jack holds open the door for Miriam. There is A WHIRRING CLICK as the coroner photographs the victim’s teeth before setting the camera down. Miriam goes to pick up her bag and glances at the camera display, frowning._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     It looks like he’s got something in his throat.

 

CORONER

     Sometimes they get leaves and things caught in there when they’ve been in the river for a while.

 

_The coroner fetches a pair of tweezers and fishes around in the corpse’s mouth._

 

CORONER (CONT.)

     There it is.

 

_He removes A SMALL, HARD OBJECT._

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     What is it? A stone? Piece of wood?

 

_Miriam steps closer and peers at the object held between the tweezers._

 

MIRIAM LASS

     No, that’s a bug cocoon.

 

_CLOSE ON THE COCOON._

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. BEDELIA’S DOORSTEP – NIGHT

 

_A MOTH lands on the door handle and shuffles its dusty wings. A HAND enters the FRAME, causing the moth to fly off as it inserts A KEY into the lock._

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – FOYER – NIGHT

 

_Bedelia opens the door carefully, but IT STILL CREAKS, rigid from disuse. She closes the door behind her and creeps noiselessly down the hall towards the stairs, passing by her darkened office but not looking inside._

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – BEDROOM – NIGHT

 

_Bedelia hurries to the closet, pushing aside SHOES and BOXES in order to reach a particular WOODEN CHEST hidden away in the corner. Bedelia sighs in relief at the sight of it._

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – FOYER – NIGHT

 

Bedelia walks quickly towards the front door but pauses at the entrance to her office. Curious for reasons she can’t quite explain, she steps inside.

 

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – OFFICE – NIGHT

 

_PURE DARKNESS save for A RECTANGLE OF LIGHT – the doorway, in which stands THE SILHOUETTE OF BEDELIA DU MAURIER. She flips on the light switch, and suddenly THE OFFICE IS ILLUMINATED._

 

_Someone has moved A LONG DINING ROOM TABLE into the middle of the room and set it with exquisite care. There are THREE PLACE SETTINGS._

 

_REALIZATION DAWNS on Bedelia’s face, and she turns back out into the foyer, only to be confronted by THE GRAY-CLAD SHADOW OF WILL GRAHAM, whose body forms a shield between her and the door._

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Don’t run. I can catch you.

 

_Bedelia stands frozen, the wooden box clutched in bone-white hands. It is a few seconds before she is able to speak._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     Do you have an appointment?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     That depends.

 

_He steps forward into a patch of MOONLIGHT, which illuminates a thin but hideous SCAR on his right cheek._

 

WILL GRAHAM (CONT.)

     Do you think you can make room for me?

 

_A LIGHT TURNS ON IN THE KITCHEN, causing Bedelia to flinch, and a moment later; there is THE SCRATCHY SOUND OF A GRAMOPHONE BEING WOUND UP TO PLAY. BACH’S ARIA OF THE GOLDBERG VARIATIONS comes out like an echo, and Bedelia draws a shaky breath._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     I don’t do couples counseling.

 

_Will just smiles, and Bedelia glances over her shoulder at the immaculate table behind her. She turns back to Will, trying hard to hide her terror._

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER (CONT.)

     Am I to be the guest of honor?

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     You are to be so much more than that, Bedelia.

 

_Hannibal emerges into the office holding TWO GLASSES OF WINE. He is impeccably dressed, as always, and death seems to have given him a new vitality._

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     What did you come back for? Was there some precious heirloom you could not bear to leave behind?

 

BEDELIA DU MAURIER

     My passport.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Ah. Did you have any destination in particular planned? I hear Berlin is lovely this time of year.

 

_Bedelia looks between the two men, weighing her options. Will shakes his head, but she doesn’t listen; THE WOODEN BOX CRASHES TO THE GROUND as she races down the hallway._

_Hannibal raises a glass to Will, who takes off after the fleeing woman. In the background there is THE SOUND OF A CHAIR NEING KNOCKED TO THE GROUND and A WOMAN’S CRY OF SHOCK. Hannibal walks slowly to the foyer, sipping his wine._

_There is A THUD, and then the noise of something collapsing to the floor._

INT. BEDELIA’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

 

_Will stands over BEDELIA’S UNCONSCIOUS FORM, flexing his fingers. Hannibal emerges and looks over his work, smiling with satisfaction._

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     I trust you didn’t hit her too hard.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     She’s barely stunned.

 

_As if to prove his point, Bedelia stirs, trying in vain to crawl away from her captors._

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Then we shall have to sedate her.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     You can do that part.

 

_Hannibal smiles at him and offers the untouched glass of wine, which Will politely accepts. The two men share a look, as comfortable with each other as any two people could hope to be._

 

_In the background, BACH’S ARIA OF THE GOLDBERG VARIATION REACHES A CRESCENDO._

 

END ACT FOUR – END CREDITS ROLL


	2. Bondiola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miriam is drawn further into the Buffalo Bill case, and a tip from an incarcerated killer leads her in an unexpected new direction. Back in time, Hannibal and Will struggle to to understand a new side of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I'm busy with school, and the chapters take forever to write, but I'll try to update more consistently in the future.

HANNIBAL

“Bondiola”

 

TEASER

EXT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – HOUSEBOAT – NIGHT

 

 **OMNISCIENT P.O.V.** – THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY through the interior of a well-kempt boat. BELOW DECK, it finds a neat cot, a lamp, and a copy of _A Brief History of Time_ , which sits on the bedside table, half-read. In THE KITCHEN, a pot of tea is heating on the stove. Suddenly, it BEGINS TO WHISTLE, the sound shrill and earsplitting.

 

EXT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – HOUSEBOAT – BOW – NIGHT

 

HANNIBAL LECTER and WILL GRAHAM tumble over the side of the boat, onto the deck. A woman dressed in black helps drag them to safety – we see that it is CHIYOH. She helps Hannibal, who is still spitting out seawater, to his feet.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     I thought you were long gone.

 

CHIYOH

     I saw the lights go on in the house. Is he alive?

 

In response, Hannibal kneels and PRESSES HIS EAR TO WILL’S CHEST. At first, any noise is drowned out by the CRASHING WAVES and WAILING TEAKETTLE, but gradually the faint rhythm of WILL’S HEARTBEAT becomes apparent. He presses a hand against Will’s mouth and finds nothing. Contemplative, he falls back on his haunches.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

(Bemused)

     He isn’t breathing.

 

Chiyoh kneels swiftly beside Will and presses her mouth against his cold lips, breathing air into him. IT ESCAPES through the wound in Will’s cheek. Almost frantic, Chiyoh continues, but her efforts prove useless as AIR WHISTLES THROUGH THE WOUND. She sits up and looks over Will’s body at Hannibal, her mouth smeared with blood.

 

CHIYOH

     Do you want to save him?

 

DARKNESS FLICKERS IN HANNIBAL’S EYES, and, for a fraction of a second, he is still. Then he seems to make a decision and leans purposefully over Will’s body, nodding to Chiyoh. She takes a deep breath, presses a hand against the wound in Will’s cheek, and gives him TWO RESCUE BREATHS. Hannibal begins to COMPRESS WILL’S CHEST in short intervals.

 

After A HANDFUL OF SECONDS, Will SPUTTERS TO LIFE, spitting blood and seawater onto the deck. His eyes roll listlessly in his head and COME TO REST ON HANNIBAL.

 

WILL GRAHAM

(Weakly)

     You…

 

Hannibal cups the side of Will’s face and smiles tenderly.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Don’t try to speak. Put your head back; wade into the quiet of the stream. You can sleep now.

 

Chiyoh’s gaze flits between the two men, and the whistling of the teakettle GROWS UNBEARABLY LOUD in the background, seamlessly blending with the GRATING MUSIC of the opening credits.

 

TEASER ENDS – OPENING CREDITS ROLL

ACT ONE

STEAM RISES UPWARDS, DISSIPATING IN THE DARKNESS

 

INT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – HOUSEBOAT – NIGHT

 

Chiyoh sits in a chair BELOW DECK, watching over a sleeping Will Graham, who lies beside her on a cot. He is BARE-CHESTED except for the GAUZE BANDAGE covering his shoulder wound. The wound on his face has also been cleaned, stitched, and bandaged.

 

Chiyoh looks over him thoughtfully and raises A MUG OF TEA to her lips, steam condensing on her eyelashes.

 

ON CHIYOH – **OMNISCIENT P.O.V**

****

Chiyoh walks purposefully towards the KITCHEN, where

Hannibal sits on the table, his bare back to her. The VERGER BRAND on his upper back is a mess of scar tissue, but it doesn’t command attention as much as the ENTRANCE WOUND in his side, which has been cleaned and sutured, but still remains livid.

 

The FLOORBOARDS CREAK as Chiyoh steps into the kitchen, and Hannibal turns, revealing that he is still in the process of suturing the EXIT WOUND in his abdomen. Seeing that it is only Chiyoh, he hunches over once more.

 

CLOSE ON NEEDLE AND THREAD, glistening with blood.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     How is Will?

 

CHIYOH

     He will need to rest for a very long time.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Unsurprising. He took the brunt of the impact.

 

Chiyoh goes to the counter and POURS A MUG OF TEA. Hannibal CLIPS THE THREAD and lays the needle down on the table before reaching for the bandages.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     When I arrived and found the house empty, I thought you had gone for good.

 

CHIYOH

     I had. I was nearly to Newfoundland when you escaped.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     I imagine you kept yourself busy these past two years?

 

CHIYOH

     I had been standing still for so long, a bird confined to a square foot of cage. Now I have the whole world.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     And yet you flew right back to the cage.

 

CHIYOH

     Not a cage, just the familiar.

 

Chiyoh sets the mug down on the table next to Hannibal. He pauses in his task to sip.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     You hesitated when I asked if you wanted to save him.

 

Hannibal pauses before setting the mug back on the table.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Will chose death. I wasn’t sure he would appreciate a resurrection.

 

CHIYOH

     You left him with a smile. It’s only right that you be the one to save him.

 

Hannibal sips the tea and doesn’t respond.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     When I first met him, he told me that he never knew himself as well as he did when he was with you.

 

Hannibal doesn’t react, but his pleasure is obvious.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     Now I think he doesn’t really know himself at all.

 

Hannibal pauses.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     What makes you say that?

 

CHIYOH

     He used to think that he was becoming you. He was wrong. He was turning into something much worse.

 

She waits for a reaction, but Hannibal simply puts down the tea and goes back to bandaging his wound. Chiyoh turns away and exits the kitchen, leaving Hannibal HALOED IN THE GLOW OF A SINGLE LIGHT, HIS BACK TO THE CAMERA. The shadows beneath his shoulder blades, which stand out in sharp relief as his muscles contort, resemble a pair of pitch-black wings.

 

EXT. THE CLIFFS – DAY (LATER)

 

CLOUDS SCUD ACROSS THE SKY above the glass house, and night gives way to the gray light of dawn.

 

CUT TO:

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE – DAY

 

JACK CRAWFORD stands, still as a statue, behind a line of yellow tape. Behind him, LIGHTS FLARE, and crime scene investigators MILL ABOUT. Slowly, Jack ducks beneath the tape and walks forward.

 

THE CAMERA PANS UPWARD to reveal the BODY OF FRANCIS DOLARHYDE, which is mobbed by men in white coats and latex gloves. THE CAMERA PANS FURTHER UPWARD to frame the house beyond like a painting through the broken rectangle of the window.

 

CUT TO:

INT. THE GLASS HOUSE – DAY

 

A YOUNG CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATOR squats beside the piano and carefully brushes the FALLEN TRIPOD for fingerprints.

 

** FRANCIS DOLARHYDE’S CAMERA P.O.V **

****

He frowns curiously at his reflection, noticing that the camera is still on.

 

CUT TO:

EXT. THE CRIME SCENE - DAY

 

Jack walks slowly to the edge of the cliff, following the TRAIL OF BLOOD, which cuts through the WOOD PILE and stops at a pair of BLOODSTAINS – Hannibal and Will’s – just before the bluff drops off into the sea.

 

Jack peers over the edge of the cliff, his foot DISLODGING A ROCK in the process.

 

THE STONE PLUMMETS towards the water, where it disappears into the waves, TAKING THE CAMERA WITH IT INTO THE BLUE ABYSS.

 

CUT TO:

DARK RED WINE BEING POURED INTO A GLASS

 

INT. ARGENTINA – VERGER SLAUGHTERHOUSE – KITCHEN – DAY

 

MARGOT VERGER accepts the glass from an elegantly dressed waiter and sips it coldly as HER ASSISTANT speaks.

 

ASSISTANT

     The pork is tied with a crosshatch of thread and compacted into a membrane before being seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika, and nutmeg.

 

THE CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal A TABLED PILED WITH DIFFERENT PLATTERS. The ASSISTANT picks up an artfully arranged plate of thinly sliced ham.

 

ASSISTANT (CONT.)

     The meat then undergoes a maturation process between thirty and sixty days. In each state, it loses water through lactic fermentation until it is ready to serve.

 

MARGOT VERGER

     This is the Bondiola?

 

ASSISTANT

     Yes.

 

Margot selects a thin slice and raises it to her lips.

 

CLOSE ON HER MOUTH she slowly chews the meat, appreciating its characteristic flavor.

 

The ASSISTANT watches eagerly, waiting for a reaction. Margot swallows thoughtfully and takes another sip of wine.

 

MARGOT VERGER

     Take me to the pens.

 

CUT TO:

INT. ARGENTINA – VERGER SLAUGHTERHOUSE – PENS – DAY

 

THE CAMERA PANS DOWN from a stark gray ceiling on a CROWDED PEN of WRITHING PIGS. The animals are cramped together, muddy, some bleeding from wounds on their sides where they have been unintentionally kicked or crushed against the fence.

 

Margot walks briskly down the aisle between dozens of overcrowded pens, her ASSISTANT struggling to keep up. Margot comes to an abrupt halt in front of a filthy pen, where an OLD SOW lies on her side, breathing heavily. A DOZEN PIGLETS fight for access to her teats.

 

The sow’s dark eye FLICKS UPWARD, meeting Margot’s gaze.

 

MARGOT

     This all has to go.

 

ASSISTANT

(Out of breath)

     I’m sorry?

 

MARGOT

     You heard me. This has to go.

 

ASSISTANT

     But Ms. Verger –

 

MARGOT

     The papers have already been signed. Get Prieto on the phone. Tell him to send his men down right now.

 

She looks once more at the sow and then turns back the way she came; the squealing of the pigs drowns out the sound of her heels on the floor.

 

INT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – HOUSEBOAT – DAY

 

CLOSE ON A PAIR OF EYES, CAUTIOUSLY OPENING

 

WILL GRAHAM wakes to the GENTLE NOISE OF WAVES SLAPPING THE OUTSIDE OF THE BOAT. He sits up, wincing at the pull of stitches in his shoulder, and gingerly reaches up to touch his face.

 

CHIYOH

     I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

 

Will turns to see CHIYOH standing in the doorway, holding a pile of folded clothes.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Chiyoh.

 

CHIYOH

     I thought you might want these.

 

She lays the clothes down on the nightstand next to her dog-eared copy of _A Brief History of Time._ Will eyes it curiously.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Hannibal was trying to reverse time.

 

CHIYOH

     First you have to understand it.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Where is he?

 

CHIYOH

     Out on deck. He’ll be glad to know you’re awake.

 

Will nods slowly.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     The wind is strong. You’ll want a coat. There’s one in the kitchen.

 

EXT. ATLANTIC OCEAN – HOUSEBOAT – BOW – DAY

 

Hannibal leans against the railing, OUTLINED AGAINST THE CLEAR WATER AND STARK WHITE SKY. Will SLOWLY ENTERS THE FRAME, going to stand beside him. Hannibal glances sidelong at the other man, taking in the SHARP OUTLINE of his profile. Neither man speaks for a long time, content to simply be in the presence of the other. The WAVES CHURN NOISILY BENEATH THEM.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     This is the second time I’ve emerged from a stupor somewhere warm and bright when I was expecting to wake up dead. Every time I entertain the possibility that I might be in heaven.

 

He smiles grimly.

 

WILL GRAHAM (CONT.)

     Then I see you.

 

Hannibal swallows, noticeably stung.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Is it such a bad thing, then? To be alive?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     It must be, if man spends every day of his life wondering whether it’s better than the alternative.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     You told me in Florence that we had begun to blur. Is there any truth to that anymore?

 

Will looks at him, expression open where once it had been shut off.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     No. I can see you clear as day.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Rebirth tends to offer a fresh perspective.

 

WILL GRAHAM

(Echoing Hannibal’s cadence)

     Is that what this was, then? A baptism?

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     It is whatever you intended it to be.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     I intended for both of us to die. No, that isn’t quite right – the particulars didn’t matter in the moment.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     In a way, you succeeded.

 

Will looks at him, bemused. He hadn’t considered that.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     A last ditch effort to purge the world of your becoming, to wash away the stain.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     I’ve been lost to the roiling Atlantic.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Not entirely.

 

He looks pointedly at WILL’S WEDDING RING. Will looks down at it absent-mindedly as if he has forgotten he is still wearing it. He removes it contemplatively, rolling it between his fingers.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     You’ve spent far too long denying your true nature. Why turn away?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     It seemed kinder.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Is it kinder for a man at the precise moment of his rapture to fall back to earth?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Kinder for anyone who happens to be caught in his pillar of light.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Again and again compassion proves to be an inconvenience.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     And yet no matter how hard we try, we can never escape it.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     At some point, we must simply come to accept it.

 

Will smiles. This is the answer he’s been waiting for. In one fluid movement, he THROWS THE WEDDING RING OVER THE SIDE OF THE BOAT. It arcs in the air, glinting, before disappearing into the ocean.

 

Hannibal stares into the waves. When he looks at Will, it seems as if he is looking at the sun.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     The dragon is slain. We’ve reached the end of the story.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     And they lived happily ever after?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Not quite. Not yet.

 

Will turns back towards the cabin, leaving Hannibal to stare after him. The boat SPEEDS IN THE DIRECTION OF THE HORIZON, WHITE FOAM CHURNING IN ITS WAKE.

 

END ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY – HALLWAY – DAY

 

MIRIAM LASS bends over a drinking fountain.

 

A CHYRON tells us we are –

 

** WASHINGTON D.C., MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY **

****

Miriam wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and reaches into her purse, withdrawing a GLASS JAR, inside of which is the BUG COCOON. Satisfied that it is undisturbed, she tucks it back into her bag.

 

INT. MUSEUM CORRIDOR – DAY

 

Miriam walks through an eerie maze of dinosaur bones. Voices can be heard close by.

 

ALBERT RODEN (V.O.)

     Come on buddy, I believe in you!

 

CLOSE ON RHINOCEROS BEETLE as it weaves between lines of pawns on a chessboard, eventually tumbling off onto a lettuce leaf.

 

ALBERT RODEN (V.O.)

     Time, Pilch! My move.

 

NOEL PILCHER (V.O.)

     No way, you lured him with produce.

 

WIDER ANGLE shows two entomologists hunched over the chessboard. ALBERT RODEN is short and wide, NOEL PILCHER tall, slim, and dark; Jack Sprat and his wife to Price and Zeller’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

 

ALBERT RODEN

     It’s still my turn.

 

MIRIAM LASS (O.S.)

     What happens if the beetle moves one of your men? Does that still count?

 

Pilcher stands and turns to greet Miriam with a wide smile. Roden remains fixated on the beetle.

 

ALBERT RODEN

     Of course it counts. How do you play?

 

NOEL PILCHER

     Ignore him; he’s not a Ph.D. Miriam, right?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Yes. Doctor Pilcher, I presume?

 

NOEL PILCHER

     The one and only.

 

The two women shake hands, and Roden turns in his chair to look up at Miriam.

 

ALBERT RODEN

     Do you have the specimen?

 

Miriam pulls the jar out of her purse, and Roden’s face lights up like the Fourth of July.

 

INT. LABORATORY – DAY

 

VERY CLOSE (MAGNIFICATION) on cocoon. Roden uses a scalpel to carefully slice the outside of the chrysalis.

 

ALBERT RODEN (O.S.)

     The wings are just like wet tissue paper, makes it hard to remove without completely destroying the specimen.

 

Miriam and Pilcher peer over Roden’s shoulders through a magnifying glass. Pilcher glances sidelong at Miriam with a half-smile.

 

NOEL PILCHER

     What do you do when you’re not detecting, Officer Lass?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Oh, I’m not a real officer.

 

NOEL PILCHER

     Why’s that?

 

Miriam hugs her prosthetic arm self-consciously against her chest. Pilcher glances at it, either having forgotten or only just noticing it for the first time.

 

NOEL PILCHER

     Ah.

 

They watch as Roden eases out the wrinkled chrysalis.

 

NOEL PILCHER (CONT.)

     Ever get out for cheeseburgers and beer? The amusing house wine…?

 

Miriam smiles.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Not lately. But maybe someday.

 

She looks up at Pilcher, sees her staring, and blushes.

 

ALBERT RODEN

     Positive match!

 

He straightens, triumphant.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     You’re sure?

 

Roden points with his tweezers.

 

ALBERT RODEN

     Miss Lass, meet Acherontia Styx.

 

Miriam leans forward, speechless.

 

VERY CLOSE (MAGNIFICATION) on the moth’s downy brown back. Right between the wing bases is the ghostly image of a human skull.

 

ALBERT RODEN (CONT.)

     Better known as the Death’s-head Moth…

 

NOEL PILCHER

     The Latin name comes from two rivers in Hell. The bodies you’ve found have all been in rivers and ponds, right? Didn’t I read that?

 

Miriam looks up, exuberant.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     And you’re sure there’s no natural way this could have ended up in the body?

 

NOEL PILCHER

     Hell no, they live in Malaysia. They’d have to be specially raised from imported eggs.

 

ON MIRIAM, still staring at the moth.

 

CLOSE ON chrysalis.

 

MIRIAM LASS (O.S.)

     Let’s start with U.S. Customs…

 

INT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – THE HALL OF CAGES – DAY

 

A skeptical MATTHEW BROWN slouches in his seat, watching Miriam between the bars.

 

MIRIAM LASS (O.S)

     … And the second section is oral. I ask you the questions and write down your reactions.

 

Miriam smiles pleasantly, still high off her success at the Natural History Museum.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     No.

 

Miriam takes a deep breath, not allowing her smile to falter.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Mister Brown –

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     No, no pleading. Quid pro quo, that’s how it works around here.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     I’m not bargaining, Mister Brown. You either complete the questionnaire or you don’t.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     What’s the matter, Miriam? You were so receptive with Eva. Her cell’s right next to mine, she told me all about you.

 

He glances purposefully at Miriam’s hands. One clenches in agitation, the other merely shifts, heavy and plastic.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Eva Knowles is a model inmate. You spend more time in restraints than you do out of them.

 

Matthew glares at her. She smirks, emboldened.

 

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     I’m holding all the cards, Mister Brown. I can make it better for you, and I can always make it worse.

 

Matthew leans back, grinning like he knows something she doesn’t.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     You think just because you’re out there and I’m in here that you’re holding all the cards? There are laws that govern this place, and you’re an intrusion at best. Chilton has no special love for you, nice job on him, by the way. Next time try a few inches to the right; might save us all a lot of trouble.

 

He leans forward abruptly, causing Miriam to flinch.

 

MATTHEW BROWN (CONT.)

     You know what you look like to me? You look like a sparrow. A frightened little sparrow that thinks she can play with hawks. Pretending that you’re brave but knowing that at any moment one of them will snap you up and swallow you.

 

Miriam takes a painful breath, her whole body one exposed nerve. When she speaks, her voice is restrained, barely bridling the anger underneath.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     You see a lot, Mister Brown. But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? How about it?

 

She holds up the questionnaire, her hand trembling.

 

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     Look at yourself and write down the truth. Or maybe you’re afraid to.

 

Matthew stares at her, impressed.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     You’re a tough one, Miss Lass. I’d hate to send you home…

 

He pauses, considers making the pun, ultimately decides against it.

 

MATTHEW BROWN (CONT.)

     … Empty-handed.

 

Miriam stands suddenly and shoves the questionnaire towards him, furious.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Then please – do this test for me.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     No. But I will make you happy. An early Christmas gift from me to you.

          (beat)

     Look in Raspail’s car. You’ll thank me later.

 

Miriam stares at him, confused.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     Go on then. Fly away, little sparrow, fly, fly, fly.

 

INT. MIRIAM’S HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

 

Miriam lies on her side, sleeping fitfully.

 

MATTHEW BROWN (V.O.)

     … Fly, fly, fly.

 

She jolts awake, coughing violently, and stares up at the ceiling. She coughs again, deep and painful, and reaches to turn on the light.

 

As she swings her legs over the side of the bed, it becomes apparent that she is in possession of BOTH HER ARMS. This observation confirms that THIS IS A DREAM.

 

INT. BATHROOM – NIGHT

 

Miriam walks sleepily to the sink, still hacking painfully. She turns on the faucet and cups her hands beneath the water. She drinks deeply, but the water does nothing to quench the peculiar dryness in her throat.

 

CLOSE ON HER ADAM’S APPLE as she swallows uncomfortably.

 

Suddenly, she BEGINS TO CHOKE, clutching the sink with one hand as the other flies to her throat. For a moment, she struggles, the tendons in her neck STANDING OUT IN SHARP RELIEF.

 

A MOTH flutters finally out of her open mouth and lands on the mirror. Miriam stares at it in horror, the blockage in her throat gone.

 

The moth crawls curiously across Miriam’s TERRIFIED REFLECTION. Between its wing bases smiles the image of a HUMAN SKULL.

 

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. MIRIAM’S HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

 

Miriam wakes with a STRANGLED CRY, her one good hand flying to her throat in terror.

 

A TENSE MOMENT AS SHE CATCHES HER BREATH and then she lies back down on the pillows. There is no chance of sleep for her now.

 

END ACT TWO

ACT THREE

 

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHEAST – NIGHT

 

Will Graham stares out the window of a car, which speeds down a dirt road. Chiyoh is at the wheel, silent and careful, Hannibal beside her in the passenger seat.

 

The trees on either side of the road THROW DAPPLED LIGHT ACROSS WILL’S FACE, and he acknowledges them listlessly. Suddenly he stirs. Hannibal senses the movement and turns to see what has gotten Will’s attention – a filthy, emaciated stray standing at the side of the road.

 

Hannibal waits for a reaction from Will, but it doesn’t come. The other man just settles back into his seat and looks away as the dog disappears behind them. REGRET FLICKERS OVER HANNIBAL’S FACE as he realizes fully how much Will has changed.

 

EXT. CABIN – DRIVEWAY – NIGHT

 

The car pulls into the driveway of A QUAINT BUT POLISHED CABIN hidden deep in the forest.

 

INT. CABIN – BEDROOM – NIGHT

 

CLOSE ON WILL’S WOUND as Hannibal gently inspects the stitches in Will’s face.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     The location of the wound is a shame.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     I suppose you’re the only one who’s allowed to mark up my face?

 

Hannibal lays a fresh bandage across the wound, as careful as he would be handling glass.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Yes.

 

THE CAMERA PULLS BACK to show the two men sitting at a desk in a cozy bedroom. Outside the window, the night is wintry and black. Will wears only his pajama bottoms, the wound on his shoulder also in need of re-bandaging.

 

Hannibal smooths down the gauze on Will’s cheek and briefly runs a thumb over the scar near his hairline. A GHOST OF A SMILE touches his lips, and then he sets to work on the other man’s shoulder.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     In my defense, I avoided damaging you too extensively.

 

WILL GRAHAM

(Sardonic)

     You were going to eat my brains.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     You pulled me off a cliff. I think we can agree that we have both been damaged.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     If we’re compiling lists of grievances, I can assure you that mine is longer.

 

Hannibal smirks, smoothing down the bandage.

 

WILL GRAHAM (CONT.)

     Is that how it’s always going to be with us? Just one endless game of getting even?

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     That all depends on what you want.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Since when have you cared about what I want?

 

Hannibal sits back in his chair, smiling wistfully.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Since the very beginning, even when you did not care yourself.

 

Will regards him for a moment before standing and moving towards the bed. Looking hurt but unsurprised, Hannibal stands and packs up the first aid kit.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     Chiyoh and I will be gone tomorrow morning on business, but I will be back no later than sundown. I suggest you get some rest.

 

ON HANNIBAL as he walks to the door.

 

WILL GRAHAM (O.S.)

     Hannibal.

 

Hannibal freezes in the doorway. Very slowly, he turns around.

 

Will sits on the edge of the bed, looking subdued. He does not meet Hannibal’s gaze.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Stay.

 

It is not a request.

 

ON HANNIBAL – a heart broken and mended again by one simple word.

 

Will lies back on the bed, curling defensively beneath the covers. In the background, THE FLOOR CREAKS. We hear sounds of cloth pulling across cloth, the soft click of shoes being removed – quiet sounds, domestic sounds.

 

Eventually HANNIBAL ENTERS THE FRAME, slipping silently into bed beside Will, who is jolted from near-sleep by the presence of the man beside him. He reaches to turn off the light, plunging them into SOFT DARKNESS, not unlike the eerie black they found BENEATH THE SEA.

 

CLOSE ON WILL, not quite asleep, his eyes half-lidded and wary. He seems to be waiting for something.

 

Ever so slowly, a strong arm snakes its way around Will’s chest, and he lets out a breath we didn’t know he was holding. Pressed so close together in the darkness, the two men appear to occupy the same body, and PERHAPS THEY DO.

 

INT. CABIN – BEDROOM – DAY

 

CLOSE ON WILL as he wakes, eyes startling blue in the light that now rushes in through the window. He has not moved since last night, but the bed beside him is curiously vacant, the space Hannibal inhabited now similar to a hole in the world.

 

ON WILL – **OVER THE SHOULDER P.O.V.** as he makes his way out of the room and down the hallway. WE HEAR THE SOUNDS OF SOMEONE MOVING ABOUT SOMEWHERE IN THE HOUSE, and Will heads in the direction of the sound, entering –

 

INT. CABIN – KITCHEN – DAY

 

Here we find the source of the noise – a dark-haired figure bent over the counter, HUMMING absent-mindedly to herself. We think it is Chiyoh, but then the figure turns, and we find ourselves gazing into the unmistakably living face of ABIGAIL HOBBS.

 

ABIGAIL HOBBS

     Morning. Hannibal made tea.

 

She offers a steaming cup, which she holds with two hands, both pale but flushed pink with MOVING BLOOD. She is dressed the way she was when we last saw her in WILL’S MIND PALACE.

 

ABIGAIL HOBBS (CONT.)

     What’s wrong? You look like you need it.

 

WILL GRAHAM

(Agitated)

     You aren’t here.

 

ABIGAIL HOBBS

     I feel pretty ‘here’.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     A place wasn’t made for you in this world.

 

ABIGAIL HOBBS

     Maybe I made my own place.

          (beat)

     Or maybe it’s all that pain medication Hannibal’s giving you. Probably the second one, right?

 

She pushes the cup into Will’s hands, her warm, living fingers brushing his for a fraction of a second. He stumbles backwards, and the teacup FALLS TO THE GROUND, SHATTERING INTO DOZENS OF FRAGMENTS.

 

The hot contents splash onto Will’s feet, boiling hot and INCREDIBLY REAL. Abigail looks thoughtfully at the broken teacup.

 

ABIGAIL HOBBS

     That always seems to happen, doesn’t it?

 

She looks up with an amused grin, but WILL IS GONE.

 

EXT. FOREST – DAY

 

SHAKY, JARRING SHOTS of Will as he races through the trees. Music is unnecessary; our ears are assaulted with the sound of WILL’S FITFUL BREATHING, his RACING HEARTBEAT, and the sound of UNDERBRUSH BEING PULVERIZED BENEATH HIS FEET.

 

HIKER (O.S.)

     Sir?

 

Will stumbles onto A PATH, breathing heavily. THE CAMERA CAN’T SEEM TO FOCUS, mirroring Will’s own disoriented state.

 

HIKER (O.S.)

     Hey, are you all right?

 

Will looks up into the concerned face of A HIKER in a hat and winter jacket. The man steps closer.

 

HIKER (CONT.)

     Are you hurt?

 

Suddenly RECOGNITION BLOSSOMS on the man’s face, and he steps backwards.

 

HIKER (CONT.)

     Wait, are you…

 

Will catches his breath and looks the other man in the eye, his gaze dangerous.

 

CLOSE ON WILL’S EYES as the hiker begins to run.

 

The hunt is on.

 

EXT. “SPLIT CITY MINI-STORAGE” – DUSK (RAINING)

 

A flickering neon sign proclaims the location, competing poorly with the ERRANT FLASHES OF LIGHTNING that streak the sky.

 

EXT. STORAGE UNIT NUMBER 31 - DUSK

 

Miriam kneels before a roll-up metal door, inspecting the padlock. EVERETT YOW, an overweight man with an expensive umbrella, stands uncomfortably next to her.

 

EVERETT YOW

     The contract is in the name of “Mister Benjamin Raspail”. The lease is barely three years old, pre-paid in full.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     And no one’s been in here since?

 

EVERETT YOW

     I wouldn’t know. Privacy is of the utmost concern to my customers, but if this is an F.B.I. matter…

 

Miriam stands, gesturing to the door.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     The lock’s broken.

 

He looks at her, mortified, and she tucks at the handle. The door makes a pitiful squealing noise but doesn’t budge. She tugs again, frustrated, but the door refuses to yield.

 

EVERETT YOW

     We could come back tomorrow with some workmen…?

 

Miriam pulls dangerously hard, THE CAMERA capturing her rage for a fraction of a second, and the door GRINDS OPEN a few inches. Another tug and A SAVAGE CRY widens the gap, and Miriam lets go in exhaustion. She withdraws a flashlight from her coat pocket and shines it beneath the door, THE BEAM SWEEPING OVER cobwebbed boxes and the rusted undercarriage of a car.

 

Taking a calming breath, Miriam lies awkwardly on her back and wriggles into the storage unit.

 

EVERETT YOW

     You’re going in there?

 

INT. STORAGE SHED – DUSK (VERY DARK)

 

Miriam grimaces and, with some difficulty, rummages in her pocket.

 

EXT. STORAGE UNIT NUMBER 31 - DUSK

 

Miriam’s hand emerges from below the door, offering a card.

 

MIRIAM LASS (FROM WITHIN)

     Mister Yow, if this door should fall down or anything else – would you be kind enough to call this number?

 

EVERETT YOW

(Reading the card)

     Jack Crawford?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     He knows you’re here with me.

 

Her legs disappear inside.

 

INT. STORAGE SHED

 

Miriam stands, sweeping her flashlight over dusty furniture draped with white tarps, the skeletal car, and an old upright piano. As her beam flashes over the keys, a LARGE RAT scurries across them, generating a cacophony of MUSICAL NOTES – the piano is horribly out-of-tune.

 

INT. THE CAR

 

The flashlight beam finds its way through the car window, which is matted with dust, and the door opens with a RUSTY CLANK.

 

 **MIRIAM’S P.O.V.** – SHIFTING

 

The flashlight pans upwards over a pair of Italian-leather shoes, two well-clad legs, a torso in a waistcoat and blazer, finally stopping at the white neck stump of a male mannequin.

 

Miriam exhales and leans farther into the car. The flashlight beam uncovers nothing of interest in the interior, but as she eases herself into the driver’s seat, a CLOTH-COVERED CONTAINER in the mannequin’s lap catches her eye.

 

Curious, she switches the flashlight to her prosthetic hand and reaches to uncover the container.

 

A SEVERED HUMAN HEAD stares back at her, floating gently in a laboratory specimen jar that is filled with formaldehyde.

 

END ACT THREE

ACT FOUR

INT. F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS – EXAMINATION ROOM – DAY

 

THE HEAD sits on the examination table, looking especially bloated and grotesque after being removed from its jar.

 

BRIAN ZELLER (O.S.)

     Do we have a positive ID yet?

 

JIMMY PRICE (O.S.)

     Let’s not get _ahead_ of ourselves.

 

BRIAN ZELLER (O.S.)

     There are gonna be two homicide victims in this room if you don’t cut that out.

 

A WIDER CAMERA ANGLE reveals PRICE and ZELLER standing on either side of the examination table. Miriam paces at the head like the host of some kind of monstrous dinner party.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     We’re assuming the head belongs to Benjamin Raspail. He was an inmate at Quinn’s Hospital at the same time as Matthew Brown.

 

She flips a page in the file she’s holding.

 

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     Released around the same time too. He went missing two years ago.

 

JIMMY PRICE

     You know what they say. Never assume, it makes an –

 

Zeller silences him with a glare. Miriam ignores both of them.

 

MIRIAM LASS

(Looking up)

     Does the head look two years old?

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Hard to say; it’s been pretty well preserved. What did our Mister Raspail look like?

 

He reaches to open an eyelid with one gloved thumb, revealing a milky-white iris and pupil.

 

MIRIAM LASS

     Uh… Pretty young. Dark hair, blue eyes.

 

She shuffles the papers around, a task made awkward by her missing appendage.

 

MIRIAM LASS (CONT.)

     Matthew Brown confessed to the murder, but the body was never found.

 

She’s barely finished speaking when the door bangs open, and JACK CRAWFORD strides through, looking imposing as ever.

 

Price tugs the corners of the corpse’s mouth upwards in a distorted grin.

 

JIMMY PRICE

     What’s up, Doc?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

(Unfazed)

     A bunch of kids just discovered Benjamin Raspail’s remains in the basement of an abandoned warehouse.

 

MIRIAM LASS

(Disappointed)

     Where?

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     Tennessee. They plugged the DNA results into the system and came up with a match.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     Wait, if Benjamin Raspail’s in Tennessee, who the hell is this?

 

MIRIAM LASS

     And who went through all this trouble to put the head in Raspail’s car?

 

JIMMY PRICE

     I suspect we shall find out.

 

He carefully lifts the head off the table, leaving a smear of formaldehyde and grave juices.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

     If you make an “alas, poor Yorick” joke, I swear to God I will make it look like an accident.

 

Price chuckles and turns the head to face Zeller.

 

JIMMY PRICE

(Dramatic)

      I knew him well, Horatio!

 

Something dislodges from the severed throat of the head. It bounces on the table, making a HARD CLACKING NOISE.

 

CLOSE ON THE BUG COCOON, the species now unmistakable – Acherontia Styx, the Death’s Head Moth.

 

Price looks up, flabbergasted. Jack stares at the cocoon, then at the head, then at Price.

 

BRIAN ZELLER

(Finishing the line)

     A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy indeed.

 

EXT. THE FOREST

 

The autumn colors leach out of the trees, turning the forest green again before shriveling again. Frost creeps back into the ground, freezing the roots and darkening the sky – GOING BACK IN TIME.

 

INT. THE CABIN – NIGHT

 

The door creaks open, revealing Hannibal BATHED IN MOONLIGHT. As he steps over the threshold, he falters, sensing something is amiss.

 

INT. THE CABIN – KITCHEN – NIGHT

 

CLOSE ON WILL IN PROFILE, his eyes hard, his jaw set tight.

 

Hannibal ENTERS THE FRAME, blurry, and stops short when he sees the scene laid out before him.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     He recognized me.

 

DIFFERENT ANGLE shows the hiker from earlier BOUND TO A KITCHEN CHAIR and gagged with duct tape. Dried blood cakes his forehead, remnants of an earlier blow.

 

Hannibal moves slowly, like a cat, and sets his gloves and scarf down on the counter. Will doesn’t look at him. Hannibal notices a gleam and eyes the HUNTING KNIFE Will clutches in one white-knuckled hand.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     What have you been waiting for?

 

WILL GRAHAM

     He’s not a killer, not a criminal. He wasn’t even rude.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     We do not always kill because we choose to. I thought that much was obvious.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     It seems like a choice when you do it.

 

Hannibal looks at his shoes.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Abigail.

 

Will nods, looking like he’s in pain.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     You can only reverse time once. Eventually something becomes too broken to put back together.

 

Hannibal nudges the pieces of China on the floor with the toe of his shoe. Will has neglected to clean up the mess from earlier.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Are you familiar with Kintsugi, Will?

 

Will laughs without humor.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. Is that your big plan? Stitch me up with golden thread and tell me I’m beautiful?

 

His voice breaks on the last word.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     It’s a philosophy that treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, not a source of shame. Whether you choose to fix it or not, the flaw remains. The thing that has been broken cannot be unbroken.

 

Will reaches involuntarily to touch the bandages on his face.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER (CONT.)

     The use of gold draws attention to the seams because there is no point in hiding them.

          (beat)

     If you keep prodding at the wound, it will never heal.

 

Will nods, placated, and gestures at the hiker, who flinches in terror.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     What are we going to do about him?

 

Hannibal crosses the distance between the doorway and the chair in two long strides and threads his fingers into the hiker’s hair.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     We can, if you wish, honor every part of him.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     Otherwise it’s just murder.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Indeed.

 

Will pushes himself away from the counter and readjusts his grip on the knife. In response, Hannibal tugs the hiker’s head upwards, eliciting A FRIGHTENED GROAN. The man’s exposed neck gleams white in the cold, metallic kitchen.

 

The room hums with energy.

 

Will takes a step forward, PLASTIC CRINKLING BENEATH HIS FEET. He has already laid out a tarp to catch the blood, already anticipated how this night would unfold.

 

He locks eyes with Hannibal, who seems to tremble almost as much as the man he holds firmly beneath him.

 

In ONE FLUID MOVEMENT, Will steps forward and SLASHES THE MAN’S THROAT FROM EAR TO EAR.

 

Hannibal lets out a pent-up breath, his eyes half-closing. The hiker’s blood runs down the front of his shirt and pools in his lap before dripping to the floor, the droplets HAMMERING ON THE PLASTIC LIKE RAIN.

 

The mood is TENSE, BRUTAL, and ALMOST PAINFULLY EROTIC as Hannibal lets the man’s head drop to his chest, panting as if he has just run a marathon.

 

It is a long time before he speaks.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

(Restrained)

     I will take care of this.

 

WILL GRAHAM

     The cook doesn’t have to clean.

 

HANNIBAL LECTER

     Never.

 

Will turns and leaves the kitchen as Hannibal leans over the body. Once he is out of earshot in THE HALLWAY, he sinks against the wall, trembling. After a while, he rises and retrieves his coat from where it hangs on the wall.

 

The front door opens and closes SILENTLY, letting in only A SLIVER OF MOONLIGHT.

 

INT. THE CABIN – KITCHEN – NIGHT (SOME TIME LATER)

 

THE DOOR CLOSES, and Hannibal’s ears prick up.

 

He is kneeling barefoot on the tarp; the hiker’s body NEARLY VIVISECTED in front of him. In the absence of his plastic murder suit, his hands and chest have become stained with DARK BLOOD.

 

Carefully, he turns, remaining on his knees as if in supplication.

 

Will stands in the doorway, regarding Hannibal warily. In his arms, he holds THE STRAY they passed in the car on their way to the cabin. The dog sniffs the air, painfully aware of the blood, but it makes no move to wrestle out of Will’s grip.

 

Hannibal smiles slowly, and as the final shot frames the two men and the dog from afar, Will does the same.

 

END ACT FOUR – END CREDITS ROLL


	3. Carbonada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal, Will, and Chiyoh pay a visit to Hannibal's relatives in France. Meanwhile, Miriam investigates the connection between Buffalo Bill and Matthew Brown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of a "meet the family" episode. I always imagined Murasaki and Robertas to be almost bewitchingly normal... at first glance, at least.

HANNIBAL

“Carbonada”

 

TEASER

GOLD

 

A warm, liquid expanse, undulating.

 

RED

 

Crimson splashes the surface, swirling and mixing like blood dropped in honey.

 

INT. BERLIN APARTMENT – DINING ROOM – NIGHT

 

HANNIBAL (O.S.)

     A traditional German cocktail with a twist: brandy, grenadine, powdered sugar, red currants, and pomegranate seeds.

 

WILL GRAHAM sits at the dining room table, watching as HANNIBAL exits the kitchen, two glasses in hand. The scar on his cheek has healed, now barely noticeable beneath a carefully attended beard, which Will scratches thoughtfully.

 

WILL

     Pomegranate? I’d say you’ve yet to master the art of subtlety, Hannibal.

 

Hannibal sets the drinks down on the table and takes his place opposite Will. Dinner has already been served – two beautiful cuts of meat and artfully arranged vegetables, not the same level of extravagance we’ve come to expect from Hannibal, but impressive nonetheless.

 

HANNIBAL

     I thought we had moved past the point of subtlety.

 

He sets to work with knife and fork. Will regards him for a beat before turning his attention to the food.

 

WILL

     You have to admit it’s more polite.

 

HANNIBAL

     So lying is morally acceptable as an alternative to rudeness?

 

He sounds amused. Will plays along.

 

WILL

     As an alternative to cruelty. It’s more… Compassionate.

 

HANNIBAL

     The same could be said of death.

 

The two men regard each other for a moment. Will picks up his drink, swirls it, but does not imbibe.

 

WILL

     Let’s say we follow through on our metaphor. Am I eating the pomegranate willingly, or is it a trick?

 

HANNIBAL

Persephone knew perfectly well what the food of the dead would do to her. It was only through negotiation that she reserved the right to return to the land of the living, and even then it was for only a short time.

 

WILL

     But she ate it anyway? Even knowing that she would never see sunlight again?

 

HANNIBAL

     A part of her must have grown accustomed to the darkness.

 

WILL

     Maybe she just appreciated the company.

 

He takes a sip of the cocktail. Hannibal smiles and spears a carrot on his fork.

 

THE DOORBELL RINGS

 

Will raises an eyebrow, and Hannibal discreetly checks his watch.

 

HANNIBAL

     It’s terribly poor manners to be making house calls at this hour.

 

A DOG BEGINS TO BARK SOMEWHERE IN THE HOUSE. A moment later, scratching and whimpering are heard from the front door.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     You really must break her of that habit.

 

WILL

     Chiyoh’s the only one she’ll listen to.

 

Hannibal rises graciously and exits the dining room.

 

FOYER

 

Upon noticing Hannibal, THE DOG falls silent and skitters away from the door. The apartment, like the meal, is elegant and tastefully decorated, but it cannot hope to match the opulence of Hannibal’s home in Baltimore or his flat in Italy.

 

Hannibal regards the door carefully before unlocking it, revealing a young man with a briefcase.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Doctor Grimm, I presume? I’m with the census.

 

HANNIBAL

     We were informed you would be visiting earlier this evening.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     My apologies; I hope I didn’t disturb you.

 

HANNIBAL

     I am always glad to help with public records. This shall be the first population census held since 1987, if I’m not mistaken.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Some felt the questions were too personal. They’ve since been revised.

 

HANNIBAL

     Naturally.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Is Mister Faust home as well?

 

HANNIBAL

     Yes. We were just sitting down to supper. You’re welcome to join us.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Oh, I don’t want to intrude…

 

HANNIBAL

Nonsense. We would love to have you for dinner.

 

He steps aside and opens wide the door. Behind it, there is only blackness.

 

END TEASER – OPENING CREDITS ROLL

 

 

ACT ONE

INT. BALTIMORE STATE HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE – THE HALL OF CAGES – DAY

 

MATTHEW BROWN lounges on his bench, looking almost bored.

 

MIRIAM (O.S.)

     Mister Brown, the head we discovered in Benjamin Raspail’s storage facility did not belong to Benjamin Raspail. We would very much appreciate it if you could tell us his identity.

 

CAMERA PUSHES BACK to reveal MIRIAM LASS, FREDERICK CHILTON, and JACK CRAWFORD standing in front of Matthew’s cage.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

(Languidly)

     What’s the hurry? Murder’s not a federal crime.

 

JACK

     Mister Brown, we have reason to believe that the body we uncovered in the storage facility is linked to the serial killer known as Buffalo Bill.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     What makes you say that?

 

JACK

     Someone broke in and disposed of the head less than a month ago, which happened to coincide with a short lull in the killings. The profile also matches that of the other victims.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     That’s not much to go on, now is it, Agent Crawford? You haven’t got a Will Graham to make leaps for you anymore; there’s something else you’re not telling me.

 

JACK CRAWFORD

     I’m afraid that’s confidential.

 

Matthew shakes his head, grinning like a cat.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     There’s got to be something in it for me. Quid pro quo, officers, quid pro quo.

 

MIRIAM

     We’re offering to restore all of your privileges and then some. Doctor Chilton has already confirmed that you will be rewarded for any contributions you make to this investigation.

 

She holds up a contract, which bears the signatures of both Crawford and Chilton. Matthew frowns at it and leans forward.

 

MATTHEW BROWN

     May I have a look at that?

 

Miriam steps forward dutifully and presents the contract. Matthew reaches as if to take it, lunging at the last minute and spitting on her. MIRIAM SHOUTS IN SURPRISE and stumbles away, reaching to wipe the saliva from her face.

 

Chilton glances dispassionately at Miriam before turning his icy gaze on Matthew, who grins fiendishly back. Something passes between the two men, but it goes unnoticed by Jack, who quietly talks Miriam down in the background.

 

CUT TO:

WATER

 

Clear and undisturbed, so very unlike the harsh Atlantic.

 

A DISTURBANCE – red hands plunge into the water, scooping and splashing it onto a red face.

 

INT. BERLIN APARTMENT – BATHROOM – DAY

 

Will dries his hands off with a hand towel and glares critically at himself in the mirror. He notices a smear of blood on his jaw and reaches to wipe it away.

 

CUT TO:

INT. DINING ROOM (FLASHBACK)

 

The CENSUS TAKER sits across from Will, looking down at his clipboard. Hannibal is busy in the kitchen.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     So that’s three occupants?

 

WILL

     Not including the dog, yes.

 

The dog, glad to be acknowledged, whines beneath the table.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Hadrian Grimm, Alexander Faust, Barbara Faust… Where is Mrs. Faust?

 

WILL

     That’s _Miss_ Faust. She’s my sister.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     Really? I didn’t think -

 

WILL

     Adoptive.

 

CENSUS TAKER

     And your relationship to Doctor Grimm?

 

Will pauses and glances towards the kitchen. Hannibal is nowhere to be seen.

 

WILL

     Legally registered for three months, together for a little over five years.

 

The census taker, who has been eating his meal with gusto, coughs and makes a note on his paper.

 

CENSUS TAKER

(Uncomfortable)

     I see. Now, if I could just have your telephone –

 

A strong hand tugs his head back by the hair. Another reaches around, glinting knife at the ready, and slits his throat. The blood sprays, and Will turns his head, unperturbed, as the crimson splatters against his jaw.

 

HANNIBAL

     I take it you were unsatisfied with the revisions?

 

WILL

     It could have been a little less personal.

 

END FLASHBACK

 

Will dries his face off with the towel and leaves the bathroom.

 

DINING ROOM

 

Hannibal has just finished clearing the dishes and rubs at an imaginary stain on the table.

 

HANNIBAL

     Chiyoh won’t be back until tomorrow morning. I suggest you get some rest.

 

Will nods.

 

ON WILL – **OVER THE SHOULDER P.O.V**

****

Will walks down the hallway and turns off into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door behind him. A few moments later, Hannibal follows slowly and stares almost mournfully at the door before retiring to his own bedroom. The intimacy the two men shared that night in the cabin is gone, replaced by an uncomfortable distance. We are just as baffled by it as Hannibal is.

 

INT. BERLIN APARTMENT – FOYER – DAY (SOME TIME LATER)

 

The front door opens to reveal CHIYOH, who, for once dressed in something other than gray and black, seems almost luminous. The dog barks ecstatically and rushes to greet her.

 

CHIYOH

     Down, Hoshi, down.

 

She pets the dog sympathetically and closes the door.

 

DINING ROOM

 

Hannibal is busy in the kitchen, his back to Chiyoh.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     I smell disinfectant and bleach. Am I to assume I’ll be eating out again tonight?

 

HANNIBAL (O.S.)

     You are always welcome to join us.

 

Chiyoh scans the dining room table and leans down to examine the centerpiece – a fruit basket surrounded with acacia blossoms and candy tuft – which she finds to be dotted with blood.

 

CHIYOH

     I may have to. The restaurants in Wedding are notoriously expensive; my credit card was declined.

 

ON HANNIBAL, somewhat peeved.

 

HANNIBAL

     The F.B.I. was very thorough this time. They managed to locate all but two of my offshore accounts.

 

He punctuates the statement with a _thwack,_ his cleaver sinking into a decidedly anthropomorphic cut of meat.

 

CHIYOH

     The money is running out, Hannibal.

 

She doesn’t get a response to this and removes a pear from the centerpiece, checking for blood before biting down. The juice spills over her bottom lip, sweet and overripe.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     I know someone who may be willing to help.

 

HANNIBAL

     I know of whom you speak and can assure you she will not.

 

CHIYOH

     It’s been a very long time, Hannibal. The ghosts of our past no longer have any power to haunt us.

 

FOYER

 

Will stands poised outside the dining room, listening intently to the conversation taking place within.

 

HANNIBAL

     Not unless we go seeking them out voluntarily, like children at a haunted house.

 

Chiyoh stares at him, though he refuses to turn around.

 

CHIYOH

     It is time to leave Berlin, Hannibal.

 

ON HANNIBAL, defeated.

 

HANNIBAL

     And just when we had grown accustomed to this little flat.

 

EXT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – DAY

 

A beautiful French mansion looming behind an elegant lawn and garden.

 

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – BALLROOM – DAY

 

CLOSE ON AN EXQUISITELY CRAFTED JAPANESE KATANA, which hangs on the wall between a mural depicting the Siege of Sanjō Palace and a panel from _The Tale of Genji_ hand scroll.

 

A SET OF WOMEN’S HANDS ENTERS THE FRAME and carefully lifts the sword down off of the wall.

 

CAMERA PUSHES BACK to reveal a regal Japanese woman in her late fifties dressed in a deep red kimono. She unsheathes the sword with exceptional care and moves the blade back and forth so that it catches the light. She smiles in contentment, letting her eyes close and her hand recall the movements of the sword – what is she remembering?

 

Quick as a flash, the sheath crashes to the floor, and the woman spins, slashing the katana through the air. The skirt of her kimono fans out as she begins her elaborate dance. Imagined parries, thrusts, and feints – she keeps her eyes closed throughout, remaining catlike and poised even as she sweeps across the ballroom floor.

 

NURSE (O.S.)

     Lady Murasaki?

 

She freezes, eyes flying open. Slowly, gracefully, she turns to face her visitor. The nurse is young and agitated-looking.

 

NURSE (CONT.)

     It’s your husband, he –

 

LADY MURASAKI bends and retrieves the sheath, into which she slides the katana.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Take me to him.

 

END ACT ONE

ACT TWO

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – FOYER – DAY

 

Will turns slowly on his heel, shoes scraping against tile. He observes a pair of antique vases, each one nearly the size of a child, which sit on either side of the front door, stuffed with striped carnations. A grand staircase leads up to the second floor, where a silk painting depicting two koi fish hangs on the wall.

 

CHIYOH

     My mistress has always had a flair for the extravagant.

 

Will lowers his eyes to meet Chiyoh’s. She stands at a nearby table, assessing a flower arrangement of viscaria. She removes a blossom, not seeming to care that she is ruining the symmetry of the bouquet.

 

WILL

     I can certainly see where Hannibal gets his penchant for luxury.

 

Chiyoh smiles, turns, offers the flower.

 

CHIYOH

     Coming here was a mistake. Lady Murasaki has already made her refusal quite clear. Still, I refuse to apologize for this visit.

 

Will accepts the flower.

 

WILL

     We’ve yet to see her.

 

CHIYOH

(Indicating the flowers)

     The carnations. Lady Murasaki has lofty ways of expressing herself.

 

Will studies the flower in his hand, looking at it with a new perspective.

 

WILL

     What does this one mean?

 

CHIYOH

     A request, on which I never expect to follow through.

 

WILL

     Then why ask?

 

CHIYOH

     For my own amusement.

 

Will nods, understanding the motivation, and tucks the flower into his buttonhole.

 

INT. BEDROOM – DAY

 

A man in his late seventies lies asleep on the bed. His hair is silver, his resemblance to Hannibal subtle but unmistakable. He wears a mask and nasal cannula over his mouth and nose. The oxygen tank to which they are connected is clearly the only thing keeping the man’s chest rising and falling. Meet ROBERTAS LECTER.

 

LADY MURASAKI sits at her husband’s bedside. She has eyes and concern only for him, despite the looming, person-shaped mass that is Hannibal’s shape in the doorway.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Your sense of timing is, as always, impeccable.

 

HANNIBAL

     How long has he been thus?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     He collapsed yesterday morning. It’s his heart again.

 

HANNIBAL

     The heart responds to increased pressure by stretching to accommodate more blood. It yields even to the thing that it is killing it.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You needn’t apply simple laws of physics to the human condition. Robertas has always had a weak heart. You remember the first time this happened?

 

HANNIBAL

     I dare say I was the cause of it.

 

Lady Murasaki turns to study Hannibal’s face. She wears a pale kimono, and her hair falls unobstructed around her face. She is nonetheless striking, but we get the impression she wishes she looked slightly more put-together.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You look so much older, and yet you seem not to have changed at all.

 

HANNIBAL

     Neither have you.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Flattery, as you should already know, will get you nowhere.

 

HANNIBAL

     I am merely remarking that age is a state of mind.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     A poor saying, repeated to the point of nonsense by those who cling foolishly to youth.

 

HANNIBAL

     I see you have not lost your cynicism.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Nor you your youth.

 

Hannibal smiles, but Murasaki simply returns her attention to Robertas.

 

LADY MURASAKI (CONT.)

     Whatever you want from me, know that you shan’t have it.

 

HANNIBAL

     I had thought as much, once I saw the carnations. I must admit I did wonder at the viscaria.

 

Murasaki goes still, her hand pausing where it cards through Robertas’s hair.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     I understand you don’t much go for dancing these days. Old sentiments?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     I thought you might appreciate the chance to show your young friend the house. I would very much like to meet him.

 

HANNIBAL

     I am sure good Will would be much obliged.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     I may refuse you many things, but I could not deny you my infamous hospitality.

 

HANNIBAL

     Much has been said about the hospitality of the Lecters.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You, for one, I know to have found it satisfactory.

 

HANNIBAL

     I could not ask for better.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     No. You could not.

 

She stands, fluid, elegant, and sweeps past Hannibal into the hallway. Her walk is more of a glide, much like a swan.

 

BEDROOM

 

Murasaki stops short, noticing Chiyoh’s silhouette against the window.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     I did not expect to see you here.

 

CHIYOH

     I did not expect to come. I admit I traveled here out of necessity, but personal choice played a factor.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     It seems strange for Hannibal to be waylaid by something as trivial as money.

 

CHIYOH

     Money seems trivial to you, and yet you refuse to part with it.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Perhaps it is reality itself that seems trivial.

 

CHIYOH

     Reality is never something I would associate with Hannibal.

 

She fingers the fabric of the drapes with something akin to indifference. The weather outside is gray and damp but not quite raining.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     That would be unwise of you.

 

Chiyoh nods in agreement. Her stance and posture mirrors that of the older woman. We are given the impression that perhaps this is the same person, simply caught at two very different points in her timeline.

 

CHIYOH

     You cannot give him the money, can you? Even if you wanted to?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     The accounts are all registered in Robertas’s name. As far as I know, I am his sole beneficiary.

 

CHIYOH

     When we first came here, I saw Hannibal admire the house he knew from his childhood – the marble floors, the ebony railings. I have always seen it for what it is: a cage.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     A cage to which I choose every day to return.

 

CHIYOH

     I’ve found that cages are more often people than they are places. In this case, your cage is much feebler now than mine.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Hannibal has been caged. You have cages within cages.

 

CHIYOH

     He has his freedom. I do not see why we cannot have ours.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Do not wish then, only act. Boldness is not reserved only for the world of men.

 

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – BALLROOM – DAY

 

THE DOORS creak open, spilling A SLIVER OF LIGHT onto the marble flooring.

 

A SILHOUETTE moves across the light. A fumble in the darkness, and then THE ROOM IS ILLUMINATED.

 

Will steps slowly into the room, taking in the ornate chandelier hanging overhead like a lavish sword of Damocles.

 

HANNIBAL

     Once, when I was a boy, they held a ball here. My aunt was radiant in her attire, my uncle less so. Still, together they were a sight to behold.

 

WILL

     I’m sure they were.

          (A beat)

     You’re very fond of your aunt, aren’t you?

 

HANNIBAL

     I suppose I am, even now.

 

WILL

     Were you in love with her?

 

Hannibal looks sharply at Will, wondering what could have possibly motivated the question, but the other man continues to peruse the ballroom as if he had just inquired about the weather.

 

HANNIBAL

     I was very young when last I saw her.

 

WILL

     Age is a state of mind.

 

Will comes to stand in front of the katana, still not looking at Hannibal.

 

HANNIBAL

     In that case, I believe I was, yes.

 

Will reaches out to run a thumb along the pommel.

 

WILL

     But not anymore?

 

HANNIBAL

     It was more of an adolescent infatuation than anything else.

 

WILL

     Feelings don’t tend to diminish over time.

 

HANNIBAL

     Nor across great distances.

 

Will turns to find Hannibal standing inches behind him. Hannibal gestures to the katana.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     She taught me the art of the samurai sword. I thought you might appreciate a lesson of your own at some point.

 

Will scoffs.

 

WILL

     Maybe some other time.

 

Hannibal notices the viscaria blossom in Will’s buttonhole.

 

HANNIBAL

     What’s this?

 

WILL

     The flower? Chiyoh gave it to me. She says the carnations mean refusal. What does this mean?

 

He removes it and hands it to Hannibal, who accepts it with a grin.

 

HANNIBAL

     “Will you dance with me?”

 

Will looks up sharply. Hannibal smiles and nods to indicate the flower.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     Meaningless, of course. No one has danced in this room for decades. I suspect the arrangement was a purely aesthetic choice.

 

WILL

     I suppose me giving it to you doesn’t mean anything, then?

 

HANNIBAL

     Flowers are simply a different kind of language, Will. If what you wish to say cannot be said out loud, it should not be said through a bouquet.

 

WILL

     You settled for letters when we were apart. How is that any different?

 

HANNIBAL

     I always reserved my most important words for when I saw you in person.

 

WILL

     I wonder if I might ask for that flower back?

 

HANNIBAL

     That would necessitate me presenting it to you. If you truly believe it to be meaningless…

 

Will swallows. The lavender blossom in Hannibal’s hand appears to bleed, red drops staining the petals crimson.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     What is a swordfight other than another kind of waltz; might I suggest a compromise?

 

Will looks away from the flower and back at Hannibal.

 

WILL

     You may.

 

END ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – DINING ROOM – EVENING

 

ROBERTAS LECTER occupies the head of the table, somehow able to maintain a pinch of his nobility despite the nasal cannula hooked over his ears. Lady Murasaki sits to his left, Chiyoh beside her. Will sits across from Chiyoh, leaving the space to the right of the head noticeably vacant.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     We have a cook, but Hannibal can be quite persistent when he wants to be.

 

Hannibal emerges as if on cue from the kitchen, wheeling a tray in front of him, on which rests a covered platter.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

(Weakly)

     Speak of the Devil…

 

HANNIBAL

     I drew inspiration from your woodcut, Uncle. I recall you being quite fond of it.

 

He glances meaningfully at the woodcut hanging on the wall above the table. Robert turns feebly to examine it as if having forgotten it was there.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     “The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife”; a classic, to be sure. I believe the ecstasy on the woman’s face has been captured with exquisite accuracy.

 

LADY MURASAKI

(Sourly)

     I have often advocated its removal, but I am yet to achieve much success.

 

Robert laughs good-naturedly.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Now, now, my dear, once I am gone you will have free reign over all aspects of interior design.

 

HANNIBAL

     Now is not the time for morbidity, Uncle. The feast is life.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

(Wryly)

     You put life in your belly, and you live.

 

Hannibal smiles, pleased, and uncovers the platter, revealing an entire unagi-style octopus served over autumn squash. He busies himself serving, and Will meets Chiyoh’s gaze. He seems baffled and somehow fascinated by the normalcy of the family, though even he can sense something darker lurking beneath petty arguments and pleasantries. We observe he is yet again wearing the viscaria blossom in his buttonhole.

 

Hannibal finally takes his place across from Murasaki and waits patiently for her to take a bite.

 

LADY MURASAKI

(Begrudgingly)

     Excellent, as always.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Good, hearty food to counter the abysmal weather. The rain is no good for my health. To be fair, nothing is.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Do you recall what set off your first bout of bad health?

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     I most certainly do.

 

He directs his attention towards Will, who responds with interest.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER (CONT.)

     I’ve had a poor heart my whole life, you see, a combination of bad genes and worse habits. I manage it well, though you wouldn’t know it, _had_ been managing until a young upstart appeared on my doorstep, seemingly intent on ruining my cholesterol.

 

HANNIBAL

     Now Uncle, I fear you may be depicting me unfavorably.

 

WILL

     The very thought.

 

Hannibal shoots him a chastising look, which Will absorbs.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     As I was saying, along comes my nephew, the picture of innocence and propriety. He seemed intent on remaining so until a local butcher made the mistake of insulting my dear wife.

 

HANNIBAL

     In my defense, his advances were quite untoward. Rudeness is an epidemic, Uncle, one that must be contained by any means necessary.

 

CHIYOH

     I remember.

 

She turns to Murasaki.

 

CHIYOH (CONT.)

     You were so very angry. But not with the butcher. With him.

 

She looks at Hannibal.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     As well she should have been! He beheaded the poor man and served the cheeks for breakfast the next morning. The whole thing caused quite the scandal. I’m afraid it was all too much for my heart to take.

 

He takes a bite of octopus and hums in approval. Murasaki pushes away her plate, looking vaguely ill. Will glances between Robertas and Hannibal, wondering how they can treat the ordeal with such flippancy.

 

HANNIBAL

     My Lady, I was wondering if, before we left tomorrow, you might treat Will to a lesson in swordsmanship.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Would it please you if I did?

 

HANNIBAL

     It would.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Then I shall. Do have any experience in the exercise?

 

WILL

     I’m more accustomed to long-range weapons.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You have this in common with Chiyoh, then. She never expressed an interest in the art.

 

CHIYOH

     Too busy making beds and dusting the lamps. It seems strange to be sitting at this table instead of clearing it.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     You were never a servant, dear. I treated you as I would treat my own daughter. It’s a shame we never had children of our own.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     A blessing, I would think. The one we fostered turned out to be so much trouble on his own.

 

HANNIBAL

     Was I so bad?

 

Murasaki glares at him over her wine glass. The question is playful, the tone less so.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Simply awful, I’m afraid.

 

As she takes a bite of octopus, THE BACKGROUND BEHIND THE TABLE FALLS WAY TO BLACKNESS. Will turns his head towards her, but she does not acknowledge him. Will watches as a slick tentacle emerges from the darkness and wraps around Murasaki’s throat. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth to a second tentacle, much like the woman in the woodcut behind her.

 

Looking decidedly ill, Will looks away and instead focuses on his plate. To his horror, he finds that the tentacle he has been served is still moving.

 

EXT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – COURTYARD – DAY

 

While Japanese aesthetics clearly dominate the interior of the estate, the courtyard is more classically European. Lady Murasaki looks decidedly out of place in her traditional fighting gear. She watches as Will ties his belt around his waist thoughtfully.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     I won’t pretend to understand what has drawn you to him so.

 

WILL

     Neither will I.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Regardless, I am curious. What is your story?

 

WILL

     You don’t want to hear my story.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     But you’d like to know Hannibal’s?

 

WILL

     I don’t find him that interesting.

 

Murasaki smiles and hands Will a wooden training sword, which he hefts awkwardly, testing the weight.

 

WILL (CONT.)

     I have to admit, this isn’t exactly my forte.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Fortunately it is mine.

 

Unbidden, she strikes, like a cobra. Will deflects her just in time, but the impact jars his arm up to the shoulder. Murasaki seems pleased.

 

LADY MURASAKI (CONT.)

     Few leave Hannibal’s company with anything less than a professional curiosity. What makes you so special?

 

He rubs his arm.

 

WILL

     Let’s just say the professional curiosity is mutual.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You caught his attention?

 

WILL

     More or less.

 

He thrusts. She parries easily and knocks him back. A second offensive move on his part proves unwise, and the training sword flies from his hand, clattering on the stones. Murasaki watches as he retrieves it.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Your form is decent. Watch your balance.

 

WILL

     How did you find him?

 

Murasaki attacks suddenly, and Will, slowly catching on, parries the thrust. Murasaki steps away.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     An orphanage in Vilnius notified us. It was difficult; Robertas prefers to distance himself from the family. He did not even know his brother was dead.

 

WILL

     What happened to them?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Earn it.

 

Will looks at her darkly and goes on the attack. Murasaki sidesteps him before striking him hard across the ribs. She waits for him to catch his breath

 

LADY MURASAKI (CONT.)

     That wasn’t earning it.

 

WILL

     Sore spot for you?

 

Murasaki smacks him with the sword, and he cringes.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Why don’t you ask him yourself?

 

Will doesn’t respond. Murasaki raises her sword to hit him again.

 

LADY MURASAKI (CONT.)

     Why don’t you ask him-?

 

Her sword glances off of Will’s as he rises, seamlessly going on the attack once more.

 

WILL

     I heard you the first time.

 

Murasaki moves to parry, but her heel slips on a tile, and Will is able to land a blow across the back of her hand.

 

LADY MURASAKI

(In pain)

     They were murdered.

 

WILL

     By whom?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Not Hannibal, if that’s what you suspect.

 

WILL

     Wouldn’t dream of it. Who?

 

She backs away, he pursues. Their swords connect once, twice, three times. Murasaki expertly feints and lunges, the tip of her sword hovering an inch from Will’s throat.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     The name doesn’t matter.

 

Will acquiesces, and the two of them step away from each other to prepare for another bout. This time Will tries a new approach, circling Murasaki cautiously as he considers his next question.

 

WILL

     What was he like when he came to you?

 

Murasaki lets her arms fall to the sides – an invitation. Will shakes his head, recognizing the trap, and Murasaki attacks. Will parries, and the two fall into a dance with Will fighting to stay afloat. At one point, he sticks out a foot to trip her – a dirty move, but effective – she stumbles and lands on her back, Will’s sword pressing against her chest.

 

LADY MURASAKI

(Breathless)

     He was mute. The orphanage said he hadn’t spoken since he arrived.

 

WILL

     He certainly loves to hear himself talk now.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Whatever happened, it… Changed him. When the butcher insulted me and Hannibal rose to the challenge, it was the first noise he’d made since his parents were murdered.

 

Will steps away, and Murasaki climbs to her feet

 

WILL

     Tell me about Mischa.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     No.

 

WILL

     Why not?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     You’re not good enough yet to earn it.

 

WILL

     I knocked you down, didn’t I?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     That was a dirty trick, Mister Graham. You’re out of tricks.

 

WILL

     Are we done then?

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Not quite.

 

She pounces. It is clear to us that she has been holding out since the beginning. Will stands no chance. The training sword is abruptly knocked from his hands, and he is thrown against the garden wall, the flat of Murasaki’s sword pressed hard against his windpipe.

 

LADY MURASAKI (CONT.)

     He gave up his freedom because of you, nearly gave up his life. I once asked him to stop, for me I asked him, and still he refused. Why you? What have you done to him?

 

WILL

     I changed him.

 

Murasaki doesn’t relent. She searches Will’s face for any hint of untruth. Finding none, she steps away. Will struggles to regain his breath.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     Why?

 

WILL

     He wanted to be changed.

 

LADY MURASAKI

     He wanted you to change him?

 

WILL

(Sarcastic)

     Why don’t you ask him yourself?

 

Murasaki regards him coldly for a moment more, and then she sweeps out of the courtyard, leaving Will alone. A flock of sparrows talk animatedly to one another in a nearby tree. Will pays them no mind.

 

END ACT THREE

ACT FOUR

 

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – LIBRARY – DAY

 

Hannibal peruses a bookshelf, at one point selecting a well-worn medical journal and flipping through it. Robertas sits in a chair near the window. His breathing comes in long, trembling gasps, only possible because of the oxygen tank at his side.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Your young friend seems rather underwhelmed.

 

HANNIBAL

     Will has a peculiar way of expressing himself. I’m sure you have not disappointed.

 

Robertas glares sidelong at his nephew. The veneer of social niceties has disappeared; it is clear there is a deep animosity between the two men.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     I could alert the police, have you in custody within the hour.

 

HANNIBAL

(Bemused)

     But you’re not going to.

 

Robertas sighs and peers through the window. The weather had shifted. As we saw in the courtyard, the sun is shining, and rays of light fall through the curtains.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     No, I suppose not.

 

Hannibal smiles and returns the book to its shelf.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER (CONT.)

     I suppose this is all very amusing for you.

 

HANNIBAL

     It gives me no pleasure to see you in pain, Uncle.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Drop the pleasantries, won’t you. There’s not a soul here who doesn’t know what you really are.

 

HANNIBAL

     And what would that be?

 

Robertas laughs, a breathless, agonized sound that turns into a hacking cough.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Do I retain the ability to call you a monster, or is that too dull a word?

 

HANNIBAL

     Not dull, no.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER

     Well, then.

 

Hannibal removes another book from its shelf.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER (CONT.)

(Wryly)

     I wonder if your sister knew. Did you show her the monster before you killed her? Was she frightened?

 

Hannibal exhibits no reaction. Robertas watches him over his shoulder for a moment before laughing and returning his gaze to the window. As he speaks, he doesn’t notice Hannibal moving silently and languidly towards him.

 

ROBERTAS LECTER (CONT.)

     Little girls tend to be frightened of the monster under the bed. Or the one in the closet. I wonder which one –

 

Hannibal clasps the valve of the oxygen tank and gives it a few firm twists, cutting of the air supply. Robertas reaches to open it again, but Hannibal pushes him gently away. Robertas begins to gasp like a fish out of water, and Hannibal steps back.

 

HANNIBAL

(Unbothered)

     I really must commend you on your choice of reading material, Uncle. I remember I was particularly fond of this one.

 

He opens the book in his hands, which we see is an illustrated edition of _Hamlet._

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     Books are splendid company; wouldn’t you agree? What’s this here? Ah, yes.

 

Robertas gasps, his breathing labored. Hannibal pays him no mind.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     “Am I then revenged to take him in the purging of his soul when he is fit and seasoned for his passage? No. Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent. When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed, at game a-swearing, or about some act that has no relish of salvation in it – then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, and that his soul may be as damned and black as hell, whereto it goes.”

 

At this point Robertas has stopped breathing. His clutching hands go still on the arms of his chair. His silvered head falls forward, breathless. Hannibal closes the book and peers at him.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     You are not fit and seasoned for your passage, Uncle.

          (Beat)

     Nevertheless.

 

He turns the valve on the oxygen tank, and we are rewarded with a hiss of air. Robertas’s eyes fly open, and he awakens choking, scrabbling for breath.

 

HANNIBAL (CONT.)

     What a gift it is to spend time with one’s family.

 

INT. ROBERTAS LECTER’S ESTATE – BALLROOM – DAY

 

Will is once again studying the lavish decorations. The inspiration behind Hannibal’s office is apparent in the multiple tapestries, statues, and heirlooms that furnish the room. Will seems particularly interested in a Japanese armored half mask when a shadow falls across the floor.

 

HANNIBAL

     I trust my aunt did not deal with you to roughly.

 

Will turns, revealing a fresh bruise, which blossoms across the front of his throat. Other than that, he seems no worse for wear.

 

WILL

     I’m still in one piece.

 

HANNIBAL

     An impressive feat, considering my aunt’s general temperament.

 

WILL

     I think I’ll stick to hand-to-hand.

 

HANNIBAL

     I suppose swords lack intimacy.

 

Will smiles and takes a step along the wall. The two men circle each other as they often did in Hannibal’s office, but now there is no desk to separate and put distance between them

 

WILL

     She told me you couldn’t speak when she found you, that whatever happened had changed you.

 

HANNIBAL

     I’m surprised you got so many words out of her.

 

WILL

     She wasn’t particularly forthcoming. Not as reticent as you, of course.

 

HANNIBAL

     I believe there’s something to be said for discretion.

 

WILL

     And here we are, back to that old argument about subtlety.

 

He grins good-naturedly at Hannibal, who nods in assent.

 

HANNIBAL

     On that note, I believe I have solved the mystery of the viscaria.

 

WILL

     Oh?

 

We notice he is no longer wearing the flower. Hannibal presents his hand, which up until now he has kept clasped behind his back. In it he holds a purple viscaria blossom, its hue the same shade as the bruise on Will’s throat.

 

HANNIBAL

     It grows wild in the fields behind the house. I suspect the maid discovered it and put together the arrangement. She was, of course, ignorant of its meaning.

 

WILL

     I see. But we aren’t.

 

HANNIBAL

(Smiling)

     No we are not.

 

Will watches as Hannibal crosses the room and comes to a stop beside an antique gramophone. A few moments of silence, and then the room fills with the opening notes of Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers.”

 

Hannibal turns to face Will, amusement easily discernible in his expression. He crosses the room and offers the flower. There is no trickery here, only an honest question.

 

Will accepts the flower without hesitation, and Hannibal reaches out a hand. Will takes it, submitting to the rare physical contact that has been conspicuously absent during the last few months.

 

WILL

     It’s probably better if you lead.

 

CLOSE ON Will’s hand, resting gently on Hannibal’s shoulder.

 

CUT TO:

 

THE SAME MOVEMENT, but bloody and desperate, a feeble clutch beneath the moon.

 

CUT TO:

 

CLOSE ON Hannibal’s hand, snaking around Will’s waist to rest on the small of his back.

 

CUT TO:

 

Crimson fingers grasping at the back of a white shirt in the darkness, staining the fabric with blood.

 

CUT TO:

 

A strong arm wrapping around another, holding them close in bed together. The cabin, three months before.

 

CUT TO:

 

BACK IN THE BALLROOM, the waltz begins.

 

INT. MIRIAM’S HOTEL ROOM – DAY

 

CURTAINS THROWN OPEN, LETTING IN THE LIGHT

 

Miriam tugs a shirt over her head. She seems to have suffered no ill effects from her encounter with Matthew Brown. On the contrary, she is in high spirits. When the phone rings, she answers immediately.

 

MIRIAM

     Jack! I was just about to call you. I was thinking that we might cross-reference inmates at Quinn’s hospital with violent crime reports. I think Matthew Brown may have met whoever put that head in Benjamin Raspail’s car while he was a patient there.

 

JACK CRAWFORD (O.S.)

     Miriam –

 

MIRIAM

     While we’re at it we might want to check missing person’s reports too. We still need an ID for the victim, and –

 

JACK CRAWFORD (O.S.)

     Miriam, Matthew Brown is dead.

 

Miriam blinks and moves over to the open window.

 

MIRIAM

     What?

 

JACK CRAWFORD (O.S.)

     The orderly heard Eva Knowles whispering to him all afternoon. They found him at bed check. He’d swallowed his own tongue.

         (Beat)

     Miriam?

 

MIRIAM

     I’m here, Jack.

 

JACK CRAWFORD (O.S.)

     Good. I need you down at the lab. Look alive.

 

MIRIAM

     Yes sir.

 

She hangs up and puts the phone down. On the street outside, a family of sparrows pecks experimentally at a bit of mangled road kill.

 

END ACT FOUR – END CREDITS ROLL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to flower language Hell, where I belong. (I think Hannibal would like viscaria both for its meaning and the fact that its name sounds a lot like the word 'viscera')
> 
> A note on aliases:
> 
> While living in Berlin, Hannibal takes on the identity of Hadrian Grimm. Hadrian was a Roman Emperor most known for building Hadrian's Wall, which marked the northern limit of Britannia. His imperial favorite was a Greek boy named Antinous, who drowned under mysterious circumstances and was later deified by Hadrian. The nature of their relationship was probably more complicated, but Antinous can best be described as Hadrian's "beloved". The Brothers Grimm, of course, are best known for their folklore retellings, which were often much bloodier than the originals.
> 
> Meanwhile Will and Chiyoh both take on the surname Faust to symbolize the metaphorical pacts with the Devil both of them have made.


End file.
